


Lovefool

by melancholymango



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Piss Desperation, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Experienced Keith (Voltron), First Time, Flirting, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Handcuffs, Happy Ending, Lance tries to hold it he really does, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omorashi, Under-negotiated Kink, Vibrators, Virgin Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholymango/pseuds/melancholymango
Summary: Freshly-graduated from high school and approaching his nineteenth birthday that summer, Lance would be lying to say he didn’t have a long list of expectations for how university would go. From the parties, to the hook-ups, to all of the friends he was bound to make. His classes were an afterthought that hardly crossed his mind, not when he had more important things to worry about.Lance is determined to lose his virginity during his first year of uni.... Even if he has to lie about his level of sexual experience to make it happen. What can go wrong?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 676





	Lovefool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starbucky (StarBucky)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarBucky/gifts).



> Welcome back, hornies, it's been a minute! So, this fic is dedicated to Jay, @CalamityKL on twitter, it was originally his idea and I just built on it until we reached this sort-of massive getting together story. I got really carried away because I was having so much fun with it, so hopefully y'all like it!!
> 
> And the rest of this note is gonna be a disclaimer of-sorts, just to elaborate a little further on the tags and the summary. Lance gets wrapped up in a web of lies where Keith believes he's a fuckboy, basically. When the time comes that they go to hook-up, Lance clings to this persona and taunts Keith into busting out some toys/restraints. Then, while he's restrained, Lance realizes he needs to PEE and he doesn't figure out how to tell Keith until it's too late. At no point does Lance not want to have sex with Keith, it's entirely consensual, just with TERRIBLE communication the entire way through.
> 
> OBVIOUSLY, this is fiction, do not lie and deceive your irl partners!!! Honesty and communication is THE foundation to build and maintain a relationship!!! Let me know if you think of any other ways this could or should be tagged! Thanks!

Freshly-graduated from high school and approaching his nineteenth birthday that summer, Lance would be lying to say he didn’t have a long list of expectations for how university would go. From the parties, to the hook-ups, to all of the friends he was bound to make. His classes were an afterthought that hardly crossed his mind, not when he had more important things to worry about.

Lance is  _ determined  _ to lose his virginity during his first year of uni. 

Despite the painstakingly long list of past crushes and relationships under his belt, he’d yet to make it any further than heavy-petting territory. It wasn’t anyone’s  _ fault  _ necessarily, the moment simply hadn’t presented itself to him. He’d been in an on-again off-again relationship for most of his high school years and his girlfriend had never felt comfortable taking it any further, and he’d never dream of pressuring anyone into something they didn’t want to do. So they waited, and  _ waited _ , until the end of their senior year when graduation was on the horizon for both of them.

Lance thought  _ for sure _ it was going to happen prom night, he’d even endured the awkward experience of buying condoms for the first time and everything… only to end up dumped at the dance instead.

Which is fine! Really, it is, he’s had an entire summer to get over it and at the end of the day they’d never been a great fit for each other. Allura had been really kind about it too, it wasn’t like she tore his heart out and left him for someone else. She’d just explained that they were headed in different directions, to different universities, with vastly different plans for the future. It made sense. It still stung at the time, though, when Lance had to bypass all the prom after-parties to cry into Hunk’s shoulder instead.

Anyway, so Lance is going into uni as a nineteen year old virgin. He knows he’s not any lesser for not having that experience, he knows virginity as a concept is stupid, and he knows that at the end of the day it doesn’t fucking matter. Except it does, when it feels like  _ everyone else _ Lance’s age has  _ done it _ and Lance  _ hasn’t. _

And he really,  _ really _ wants to. 

\--

To be perfectly honest, he wants to even _ more  _ when he meets his roommate.

From the housing application Lance had emailed to him weeks ago, Keith Kogane is a twenty year-old heavy machinery welding apprentice. That was all the information they’d supplied him with going into it and going by that alone, Lance expected to be rooming with your typical buff straight dude. The kind of guy who only has two different conversation topics: sports and cars. The kind of guy who’d laugh at Lance’s nightly skincare routine and try to make unsettling misogynistic jokes at every turn. 

So going into that dorm room with that set of low expectations and being met with the most beautiful man he’d ever laid eyes on  _ instead _ , well, it caught him by surprise to say the least. 

Granted, beautiful men could still be assholes, but fuck if Lance cares when he looks _ that _ attractive. 

What the application had failed to mention was that Keith Kogane was _ fucking _ hot. Like, the kind of obnoxiously hot that renders you speechless, makes your mouth a little too dry for words, like the sheer level of your thirst has caused a drought within your body. In most cases, Lance would immediately backtrack after such a sheer idiotic thought, but he’s not exaggerating in the slightest. Keith is… he’s pretty, and _ intimidating _ , and cute all in the same fucking instance. 

Lance thought he was prepared for anything going into this, but he hadn’t even considered that he’d be paired with the _ hottest guy on campus _ as a roommate. Lance isn’t sure which of his features is the most compelling, isn’t sure where to avert his eyes when everything he looks at is just as attractive as the last thing to grab his attention. He doesn’t mean to stare, really, but how can he look away?!

Keith is staring back now, having looked up at the sound of Lance dropping a box full of his belongings to the floor. He’d been in the middle of a workout, a dumbbell still clasped tightly in one hand, sweat still clinging to his brow. He’s looking up at Lance through those long lashes, so naturally full and thick that it makes Lance feel like a fucking idiot for spending as much money on makeup as he does. 

Recognition dawns slowly and then Keith’s scowl slowly relaxes into something more casual, a hint of a smile quirking at his lips as he straightens up and rolls his shoulders. Lance tries not to whimper at the way his pecs bulge beneath his tank top with the movement. Keith is still watching him, after all.

What the fuck. Why the hell is Keith pursuing welding when he could clearly be America’s next top male model instead?  _ Oh god, don’t picture him in Calvin Klein’s, don’t picture him in- _

“McClain, I take it?” Keith asks eventually, clearly putting effort into schooling his expression back into something neutral, relaxing only slightly the longer Lance stands there wordlessly staring. He really should say something, introduce himself so Keith knows he’s not some idiot that wandered into the wrong dorm room or something. He just can’t. He can’t form thoughts, let alone  _ words _ . 

After a moment, Keith brushes off his lack of response and tosses the dumbbell onto his bed, crossing the room in a few quick strides and coming to stand in front of Lance. He extends a hand and Lance swears he feels the sparks when their hands touch. Keith is smiling again now, though this time it’s not subtle at all, it’s wide and welcoming as if trying to calm Lance’s fried nerves. “It’s Lance, right?”

“I, uh, you’re…” Lance offers, unhelpfully, mentally wishing that someone or something would save him from this utter embarrassment. His wish comes true in the worst of ways when he hears Rachel’s shrill voice announce her arrival. He’d forgotten she was even here. Fuck.

“Lance, you giant fucking dumbass, this fell out of your arms on your way up here and you’re lucky I noticed before someone stole him. Imagine if you lost Sharky, you’ve only had him since the day you were  _ born _ . Really, you should pay more attention.” Rachel lectures him with a vengeance, never one to miss an opportunity to call Lance out on his faults. She grows silent when she comes to stand beside him though, eerily silent, and Lance braces himself for the fallout. “Oh, hi, are you the roommate?”

He tries not to audibly gag at the shift in her tone, from her usual nagging self to soft and sweet,  _ flirty _ .

“I _ think  _ so?” Keith chuckles, untangling his fingers from Lance’s clammy ones so he can offer his hand to Rachel instead, grinning as he introduces himself a second time. The amount of natural charm that radiates off of him is infuriating, no one should have that much sex appeal, it’s just not fair. “I’m Keith.”

“Cool.” Rachel answers, easy, completely composed. “I’m Lance’s sister, Rachel, we’re twins but as I’m sure you can see, mom ran out of whatever genes made me so good-looking when poor Lance came along three minutes later. He’s lived in my shadow ever since.”

“Huh. Well, nice to meet you both.” Keith says then, eyes darting to the side to linger on Lance’s stupefied expression a moment more. Then, as if Lance’s behavior isn’t cause for alarm at all, Keith turns away and grabs a leather jacket off his bed. He shrugs it on, starting toward the door. “I actually have to meet someone, so I should get going. Good luck moving everything in!”

“Yeah, for sure.” Rachel waves him off, smile still plastered to her face even after he’s turned the corner out of sight. For a few seconds, neither of them say anything, they both stand there basking in the moment and the memory of Keith’s fucking biceps, probably. They’re twins, so Lance can only assume Rachel’s mind is in the same place as his. That being said, it’s not exactly a surprise when the next words out of her mouth are: “He’s kinda hot, yeah?”

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” Lance snaps, eyes widening in realization.

“D-”

“Dibs!” Lance shouts over her, far quicker, before she can even begin to form the word. He’d known it was coming though and her following pout only cements how right he’d been. She’s glaring at him now, cheeks puffed out in annoyance like a petulant child. “You know the rules, Rachel, I said it first.”

“Ugh, but what if he doesn’t like dudes, will you at least put a good word in for me?” She asks him then, batting her eyelashes, obnoxious in her pleading. Lance sticks his tongue out at her, snatching the bag of his clothes and Sharky from her arms. He turns on his heel, marching over to the empty bed in the corner and dropping them onto the bare mattress.

“I don’t know that I  _ have _ a good word for you.”

“Screw you!” Rachel flings her sunhat at him like a ninja star and it does very little for actual injury, it’s more the insult that gets him. He whirls around, ready to raise his voice and throw something right back, easily playing into the argument between them the moment it starts. He doesn’t get the chance though, freezing as their mother walks into the room with a smaller box in her arms. 

Even still, she notices right away from the guilty expressions they’d tried to wipe clean.

“ _ Seriously _ ? You’re both moving into university dorm rooms this week and you’re still squabbling like you did as toddlers. If I’d known this would be a lifelong issue, I would’ve contacted the adoption agency and shipped you off before you could both give me twenty years worth of headaches.”

“Thanks, Mama, love you too.” Rachel responds with a grumble, moving to help her with the box and managing to accidentally step on Lance’s foot on her way. He curses under his breath, but doesn’t dare to retaliate now when he’s bound to get caught. Instead, he sits down on the edge of his bed, watching as Rachel places the box down on top of the others. She chats idly as she does, whether anyone else is listening or not. “We met Lance’s roommate. Lance has a big fat crush already, you should have seen him, he clammed up just like that time in sixth grade when Isabel asked him to the movies.”

“Oh?” Their mother perks up at that and Lance groans, flopping back against the mattress. He’s not looking forward to this particular interrogation, not when the wound is still so fresh. “Is he nice? I wish I’d been faster, I would have liked to meet him. Maybe if I stick around to help you unpack-”

“No, oh no, no fucking way.” Lance bolts upright, jabbing a finger in her direction. “I’ll be _ lucky _ if he doesn’t request a transfer after the way Rachel introduced herself, I’m not letting you mess with my chances too by being your usual nosy self. He’s way out of my league as it is, I can’t take the familial embarrassment thing on top of that. He’ll never take me seriously.”

“He might not even  _ like _ guys, remember, and if he doesn’t you know who to call-”

“I’d sooner set him up with mom than you.” Lance deadpans, and Rachel looks like she’s going to throw something at him again before their mother shoots her a knowing glare. Lance sighs, getting to his feet and ripping open one of his boxes. “I can take it from here, I’ll unpack on my own. Goodbye.”

He’s only just managed to pull the framed picture of him and Hunk out of the box when he feels the weight of his mother drape across his back, hugging him from behind. He sighs heavily, but relaxes back into it rather than trying to shrug her off. It’d only end in more smothering if he struggled now.

“My baby’s all grown up. Shooing me out the door, fleeing the nest in a sprint after I’ve agonized over raising you for a quarter of my life. And this is the thanks I get? No hug or kiss goodbye?” She places a wet kiss on his cheek to emphasize her point and he wretches, squirming away from her.

“Ugh, you’re so  _ dramatic _ . I’m only an hour away, you’ll see me next week for Luis’ birthday.”

“Where do you think you get it, hm?” She responds, pinching his ear and giving it a tug for good measure, before getting back on her feet and brushing her knees off. He sits back, looking up at her, feeling a phantom pang of anxiety at the thought of her leaving now. He’s excited to be moving out of his parent’s place, but there’s no denying the bittersweetness of it. He’ll miss having family to turn to at all hours of the day and night. “Alright, we’ll go. We still have to stop at Ikea to get Rachel her new desk. I hope you know how lucky you are to be missing that shopping trip. You  _ know  _ how indecisive she is.”

“Hey!” Rachel squawks indignantly, leaving Lance to chuckle to himself. His mother drops a hand to his hair, ruffling it up in every which direction. He sighs, leaning into the touch one last time, an unspoken genuine goodbye. She pulls away then, heading for the door. “Good luck with the cute boy, mijo. No one is out of your league, you’re a catch, the best-looking young man in here. Don’t you forget it.”

“Don’t lie to him, Mama, you’re only setting him up for disappointment.” Rachel mutters, ducking around the corner and out of the room before Lance’s shoe can hit her.

\--

The first two weeks of uni life don’t go exactly how Lance has been envisioning all this time. With each passing day he’s infuriatingly aware of the lack of parties, friends, and fucking. Worse yet, he hasn’t even had a chance to redo his botched introduction to his roommate, given that Keith is never around. He’s always out, probably off with friends at parties, probably fucking. Ugh. 

And when he does come around, usually in the early mornings or the late evenings, he’s always fucking half-naked. Either he’s jumping into the shower in the mornings or climbing into bed in the evenings, but the fucker never has a shirt on, and how is Lance meant to hold eye contact and speak like a normal human being when all of that is on display right in front of him? The dude’s built like a brickhouse and Lance is a weak, weak nineteen year old virgin. He’s not prepared for that much naked skin that close to him, close enough to reach out and touch.

So he sits alone in his dorm, attends his classes once those start up, and waxes poetically about his crush on the phone with Hunk any chance he gets. It’s fine, he still has most of the year left, things can still turn around from here. He’s going to lose his virginity and convince Keith to stop looking right through him, preferably not in that order because the more he thinks about it the more he’d love to lose his v-card  _ to Keith _ . Not just for the bragging rights or the crush but because, well, it’d probably be a little easier with someone he knows…  _ even if he barely knows them at all. _

\--

Lance wakes to the sound of shuffling in the room, quiet enough that it could be a rat, but realistically it’s probably just Keith coming home. He’s always like that, sneaking around and trying not to wake Lance, and Lance isn’t sure yet if it’s a courtesy thing or if he just really doesn’t want to interact with him. He hopes it’s not the latter, but as the days pass them by and Keith feels more distant than ever, he really has to wonder about it.

As it is, he lifts his head from the pillow, cracking his eyes open and squinting across the room. Keith is rooting around in the drawers under his bed, grabbing a change of clothes, his low ponytail falling between his shoulder blades. His hair has grown just since Lance met him, taking on an even shaggier look, and Lance wonders when he’ll get it cut.

Keith pauses suddenly, as if sensing the eyes on him, and then looks over his shoulder. Lance doesn’t bother to avert his gaze, instead he offers a nod and a lazy smile. He doesn’t try to say anything just yet, isn’t sure he’s capable of it with how dry his mouth feels.

“Morning.” Keith offers sheepishly, watching as Lance yawns into his palm. “Sorry if I woke you. I’m just stopping by to grab a shower, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“No rush. It’s your room too, not that you spend much time here.” Lance says hurriedly, wincing at how scratchy his voice is from sleep. Keith quirks an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on it, going back to looking for his clothes. Lance stares at him for a long moment, debating whether he should try to initiate more of a conversation. Keith is just such an intimidating entity, Lance knows so little about him, no matter how much he’d like to. He bites his lip, debating it until he’s sure he can taste blood, watching as Keith starts to get to his feet to leave. 

When he speaks, the words nearly blur together with his rush to get them out before Keith can slip away into their shared bathroom. “Do you work? Is that why you’re never home?”

“Part-time at an autoshop in town.” Keith turns back to him, reaching up to pull the elastic free from his hair, and Lance tries desperately not to follow the movement with his hungry gaze. He swallows, averts his eyes, tries desperately to find some thread of the conversation to cling onto before it dissipates entirely. This is the most they’ve talked in days.

“So, what? You fix like cars and shit?”

“Cars, bikes, boats, trucks, pretty much anything with an engine I’ll figure my way around it.” Keith says, and despite the cautious look in his eyes like he isn’t sure why Lance is asking so many questions, he does seem proud of this fact. And he should be, really, because Lance wouldn’t know the first thing about fixing engines if someone through a manual and smacked him upside the head. 

“Cool.” Lance blurts, immediately cursing himself internally at just how awed he sounds. Keith’s lips quirk at the corners, just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. Lance feels doubly awed now, as more words tumble past his loose lips without a single thought to accompany them. “Very… cool.”

Lance half expects that to be the end of the conversation, he hasn’t really given Keith anything to work with and he isn’t normally one for initiating anything. He isn’t walking away though, he’s still standing there in the middle of the room, watching Lance with a curious glint in his eyes.

“What about you? Do you work?” Keith asks then, apparently surprising the both of them.

“Not yet, but I applied to a couple of the food places around campus. Figure it’s a start even if I end up serving coffee to all the rich kids who don’t have to pay their own way through school.” Lance rambles hurriedly, like he’s being timed to answer, like he has to get out as much as possible to make this conversation worthwhile. It’s worth the embarrassment immediately when Keith chuckles, just a quiet huff of laughter slipping past his lips.

“Yeah, fuck those kids.” Keith agrees, winking at him. Lance isn’t sure what to think of that, but at least he doesn’t have the chance to vocalize his confusion, because Keith is already gone. The bathroom door closes behind him with a click and that’s that. Lance is left alone in their room again, sitting in his bed with a dumb lovestruck look on his face.

He means to get up and make breakfast then, possibly two portions so he can smoothly invite Keith to eat with him and hopefully inspire some more conversation between them, but the minutes pass and he still feels glued to the spot. He’s still thinking about that wink. That was flirting, right?

Thankfully he’s pulled out of his thoughts to the sound of a phone ringing, otherwise he might have debated it all day long, skipped his classes and everything to ponder if Keith Kogane winked at him with intent beyond just evading the conversation as quickly as possible. 

The phone ringing isn’t his. It’s the generic pre-set ring, nothing like Lance’s upbeat and up-to-date pop song ringtones that he updates every other week. Lance spots the offending device on Keith’s bed and scrambles out of his blankets to grab it. 

Shiro.

Huh, he’s never heard Keith mention him, but then again Keith hasn’t really mentioned any names of anyone he knows. Lance walks over to the bathroom, giving a hesitant knock to the center of the door.

“Keith? Your phone is ringing! Do you want me to slide it under the door or someth-”

Lance is cut off when the door in front of him sweeps open.

Keith, wearing nothing but a towel and smelling of fresh masculine soap, his wet hair held back from his face only by his hand. Lance tries not to look, but it’s a losing battle, and he finds his gaze dropping anyway to the planes of Keith’s chest and stomach. He watches as one droplet of water in particular follows the line of his chest between his pecs and past the defined abs, down, down, down… 

“Thanks, I’ll grab it.” Keith tells him indifferently, grabbing the phone from Lance’s hand. He turns around then, disappearing into the bathroom, and kicking the door shut behind him… but not before Lance gets a glimpse of the towel dropping from Keith’s hips to the tiled floor. Oh fuck.

He tears his gaze away despite the way it’s determined to stick like fucking velcro, hurriedly turning his whole body around and pressing his back to the closed-door instead. His eyes are as wide as saucers, his heart hammering in his chest, his cock giving a traitorous stir in his joggers. Surely that wasn’t an accident, right? Either Keith wanted him to see or didn’t care at all if he did, but he had to have known the door wasn’t fully closed yet, that Lance could still see h-

“Shiro, I told you I’m on my way, I just wanted to shower first you impatient bastard, I doubt you want to see me when I smell like yesterday’s sweat and grease.” Lance blinks owlishly, peeling himself away from the door, not wanting to eavesdrop. Still, the conversation is a short one, and he hears the majority of it through the thin walls without trouble even after he walks away. “Yeah, yeah, I know, you’ve smelled it all before. Yes, I’ll stop on the way and grab everything. Okay. Yeah. Alright, love you.”

Huh.

It’s strange, hearing the fondness and familiarity in Keith’s tone, so different from the usual blank indifference he addresses Lance with. Hearing Keith say the word “love” in general is a trip, given how emotionless he’s seemed the entire time Lance has known him. He seemed too cool for it, above expressing the barest hint of affection, but maybe that’s not the case at all. 

Maybe he just really doesn’t like  _ Lance _ .

… Or maybe he really likes whoever this Shiro guy is.

Huh. That’s a thought. If Keith is already in a relationship, Lance will have to get over this little crush of his and respect it, he has no interest in trying to break two happy people up. It sucks that he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to be open about it with Lance, and maybe that’s a big part of why he doesn’t spend much time around the dorm. Maybe he thinks Lance is a judgmental straight guy…

Luckily, there’s one surefire way to fix it.

Keith walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later fully dressed and Lance is sat on his bed again, scrolling aimlessly through his own phone, stomach put off of breakfast as anxiety gnaws away at his gut. He glances up to look at him though, debating strongly before speaking up.

“You headed out?”

“Yeah.” 

“It’s cool, you know, I’m not gonna make a big deal about it.” Lance offers, trying to be casual about it, not wanting Keith to feel cornered. He stretches out across his bed, propping an arm behind his head, holding eye contact. Keith looks lost, like he isn’t keeping up with the conversation, but that makes sense when he doesn’t know what Lance did or didn’t overhear. “If that’s what you’re worried about, you don’t need to be. I’m cool with it.”

“What?” Keith says, his tone flat, unreadable.

“I mean, I know you don’t know me well, but I’m the  _ last  _ person to judge you for that sort-of thing.”

“I don’t-”

“Actually, we probably should have this conversation now, because I’ll probably be having people over as well and I’d rather get it out of the way. I’m not straight either, I’m bi. So, I might have a girl over one night, then a guy the next. I assume you’ll be cool with it and I’ll give you a heads up, but just so you kn-”

“Shiro’s my brother.” Keith blurts, with none of his usual effortless calm, none of that coolness he’s been radiating since Lance met him. It’s jumbled and rushed, clumsy, clearly uncomfortable. Lance is immediately swamped with regret so strong he thinks he might drown in it. Oh god, did he just come out to someone who’s gonna give him shit about it, what has he  _ done _ ?!

“O-Oh.” Lance stutters out, scrambling. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t purposely eavesdropping or anything, but the walls here are super thin and I couldn’t help overhearing. That was so shitty of me, to just assume-”

“I stay at Shiro’s most nights, not because I’m worried I have a homophobic roommate and I’m sneaking around with boys in the shadows, but because it’s closer to work.” Keith tells him, and Lance still can’t get a read on whether he’s mad or not, but if he is he’s being very passive aggressive about it. He’s looking at Lance openly, no hesitance at all. “Only reason I signed up for dorm living at all is because he’s moving soon and his place won’t be an option. So, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me around soon.”

“I’m such an idiot.” Lance sighs, curling in on himself, burying his face into his hands. So much for impressing his hot roommate, he might as well just set him up with Rachel at this point, what does he have to fucking lose? He fucked up the introduction, he fucked up their first real conversation, at this rate Keith will never look twice at him.

“I mean, in your defense, you weren’t entirely wrong.” Keith says, his tone blatantly amused at Lance’s obvious misery. Even still, Lance quirks an eyebrow, slowly drags his gaze up from his hands and back to the boy in front of him. Keith is closer now, settled right across from him on his own bed, posture lax and comfortable. “I’m definitely not straight. Not even a little bit.”

Lance can’t even rejoice at the confession, instead all he feels is guilt that he pressured Keith into saying it in the first place. He didn’t _ need _ to know, he definitely didn’t need to know at the expense of Keith’s comfort, he shouldn’t have pushed him. He’s such a giant asshole.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to tell me that, I’m s-”

“It’s fine, Lance, it’s not a secret.” Keith laughs then, the first real unfiltered laugh Lance has heard from him, deep and adorable. The corners of his eyes crinkle, the barest hint of dimples appear in his cheeks, and his wet bangs fall in a curtain across his eyes. Lance is so ridiculously attracted to him in that very moment that it hurts. “God, am I really that subtle? Seriously? You thought I might be  _ straight _ ?”

“I don’t know, I guess.” Lance huffs, feeling embarrassed now. “Straight guys wear leather, Keith.”

“Yeah? And eyeliner? And nail polish? And boots with heels?”

“Sometimes!” Lance squawks, indignant. What kind of asshole would he be to just assume based on Keith’s appearance, if anything he was doing the right thing by waiting for him to come forward with it on his own. Sure, he’d hoped, but he hadn’t _ assumed _ .

“Well, while we’re on the topic, you don’t have to worry about me bringing guys around here. Dorm room sex is kinda tacky… thin walls, yanno? I’d rather fuck somewhere I don’t have to bite my tongue the whole time. It’s more fun that way.” Keith says, with all the ease of a practiced professional, someone who’s been to parties with friends and fucked at every single one. Lance feels suddenly small, fidgeting nervously in his seat, trying not to be turned on by the thought of Keith with other guys.

Does he fuck them? Or do they fuck him? Maybe it depends on the night…

“Uh, good to know. Thanks… for letting me know.” Lance would facepalm himself if it weren’t for how closely Keith is watching him, avidly attentive to Lance’s every reaction. He still looks infuriatingly amused, lips quirked into a shit-eating smirk that Lance decides right then and there that he hates more than he loves. Probably.

“Don’t let me stop you from experimenting though.” Keith says then, his tone surprisingly earnest instead of mocking, and Lance shoots him a panicked look. “I know how freshmen from small towns are, you get a little bit of freedom and realize you can fuck who you want, and you go wild with it. Just inform me ahead of time and I’ll make sure you have the room to yourself. Use condoms.”

“I’ve had sex before.” Lance hisses out, seething, feeling the heat crawl across his face.

“Never said you hadn’t.” 

“You implied it.” Lance argues, narrowing his eyes into a glare. Keith’s flippant expression is starting to really get on his nerves, especially when his virginity is such a sore spot to begin with. He can’t stand it, that smugness surrounding him, like he knows something Lance doesn’t. That’s exactly what leads him to say it, to blurt out the little white lie that certainly won’t spiral into something more. “I probably fuck more than you do, for the record.”

“Yeah? I bet you do.” Keith licks his lips, getting to his feet, eyes never leaving Lance. “A real awkward virgin in the streets and Casanova in the sheets type of guy, huh? A master of deceit.”

“You know what, I think I liked you better when we didn’t talk, you’re an  _ asshole. _ ” 

“I tried to warn you, give you an easy out, you’re the one who keeps trying to befriend me.” Keith responds with a shrug, starting toward the door, bag slung loose over his shoulder and Lance hates how cool he is. The bastard. He wants to throw something at him just like he would Rachel, but before he can even entertain the thought Keith turns around on his heel to look back at him. “It is just  _ friendship  _ you’re after, right,  _ Casanova _ ?”

“Wh-” Lance splutters, feeling breathless.

“Just checking.” Keith dismisses himself with a shrug, blowing the hair out of his eyes with a huff. “Just making sure you’re not trying to make me the newest notch in your  _ impressive _ bedpost.” 

“You are _ so _ -”

“Not your type?” Keith interrupts, still grinning. Lance tries to get a word in edgewise, but Keith already has the door wrenched open and he doesn’t know what to fucking say to that. “Alright, I’m headed out. I’ll see you Wednesday, probably. Enjoy the room to yourself, keep it out of my bed.”

The door slams and Lance stares at it for minutes, trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.

\--

After that Keith is just as, if not  _ more _ , distant than ever. Maybe he’s helping his brother getting ready for the move or maybe he’s just avoiding Lance like the plague, but the point is Lance is left alone with his thoughts a lot more than what’s probably good for him. He starts to think about his original plan again, to just meet a stranger and lose his virginity to them, preferably without ever admitting he’s a virgin in the first place. It’d be easier that way. And his daydream of sleeping with Keith is looking less and less realistic by the day, anyway, so maybe he  _ should  _ just go back to Plan A.

Ironically, all things considered, Keith makes the decision for him one day when he’s walking back from his shift at the campus coffee shop and sees a familiar face climbing into a car on the campus. He almost shouts Keith’s name, calls out to him and demands his attention, but at the very last second he notices Keith isn’t alone. There’s a guy in the driver’s seat and though it’d be easy enough to dismiss him as Shiro, Lance is pretty damn sure it isn’t when the stranger leans over the moment Keith closes the door behind himself and kisses him hard.

They’re really just… going for it, making out in their car in one of the off-campus parking spots, as if the meter isn’t ticking away beside them. It’s there, watching Keith grab at the stranger’s coat and pull him in, eagerly giving as good as he gets… that Lance decides he probably couldn’t handle Keith for his first time anyway, he’d probably only disappoint. It’d be better with a stranger.

\--

Finding a willing hook-up is surprisingly easy in the era of quick and seamless dating apps. After a few conversations that fizzle off before they can really begin, Lance meets a girl who seems to vibe with him well enough. She has the same sense of humor, seems to enjoy the pick-up lines and the way Lance’s frames every flirty comment in a sarcastic way, too nervous to fully commit to it. In the end, it’s actually her that suggests they meet up in person and act on all the dirty promises they’ve made in their first three days of speaking to each other. And Lance couldn’t be quicker to agree.

That’s about the point where it stops being easy and starts being sort-of terrifying. Lance overthinks everything, from what he’s wearing to the way his half of the dorm room is set-up, to what fucking sheets to have on his bed. Nevermind that if he’s doing a good job she won’t be paying attention to any of that stuff and he probably won’t be wearing  _ anything _ .

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Nyma is just as confident and bold in real life as she is through text. Lance opens the door to invite her in and doesn’t even get the chance to greet her before she’s kissing him silent, fingers weaving into his shirt and pulling him in. Lance is familiar with kissing, painstakingly so, that’s as far as he ever went with Allura and they spent a long time getting familiar with it.

So, for a minute, Lance forgets about his anxious thoughts and lives in the moment. He kisses her hard, fits his hands around her hips, and they stumble across the room toward his bed. They only pull apart long enough for her to pull her shirt over her head and Lance tries not to choke in surprise when her lips slam against his once more. With that, the backs of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, and they go stumbling down on top of each other.

He breaks away from the kiss to apologize, but she’s laughing anyway, clearly amused by him.

After that, more clothes come off, hitting the floor one after the other in messy piles. Lance leans back against the mattress and simply stares, feeling suddenly speechless once they’re both down to their underwear and nothing else, her soft legs bracketing either side of his hips as she settles down into his lap. She kisses him again and his hips buck up pathetically, and he feels a pang of worry that he’s not going to last until he’s inside of her if she keeps rocking against him like that, which is the last thing he wants to happen. Before he can get too caught up in his panicked thoughts about it though, he hears the lock of the door turn with a quiet click.

The garbled shout he tries to make is embarrassing in itself, choked and breathy, a moan cutting him off when Nyma scrambles on top of him to pull the blankets over her bare chest. And then the door flings open, revealing a tired and unimpressed-looking Keith, who visibly brightens up when he lifts his gaze and sees the scandalized state Lance is in right now, a mostly-naked woman still huddled behind him.

“Keith!” Lance shouts, coughing into his fist to cover up the shrillness in his voice. When he speaks again, he sounds marginally more composed, but the smirk slowly spreading across Keith’s face doesn’t fade for even a second. He’s entirely too amused. “I thought we agreed to knock!”

“Didn’t think you’d be up this late at night… or have company over.” Keith trails off pointedly, bushy eyebrows slowly rising upward in question. He drops his bag onto the floor then, as if he plans to stay, and Lance feels anger boil beneath his skin. He was so close, so incredibly close to losing the embarrassing virgin title he’s been carrying for so long and Keith thinks he has any right to interrupt?

“Yeah,  _ your _ bad.” Lance snaps, not even bothering to hide his frustration. He expects Nyma to share a similar hostility, given how impatient she’d been up until this point, but instead she only laughs. Lance doesn’t know what to make of that, nor the growing grin on Keith’s face, so he draws a heavy breath and asks the dreaded question. “Do you two know each other?”

There’s a long pause where Lance is sure they must be friends, that he’ll never live this experience down, that Nyma will tell Keith all about his lackluster kissing skills and how tiny his nipples are and-

“No, but I think I’d like to.” Nyma says then, in that same flirty low drawl she’d spoken to Lance with moments before. Lance isn’t entirely sure if she’s suggesting a threesome, or that she’d prefer Keith in place of Lance, but either way it fuels the anxious thoughts he’s been trying to keep on the backburner this entire time. He’s going soft, erection flagging as his nerves get the better of him.

“He’s gay.” Lance blurts out, before Keith can even attempt to navigate a response to her, whether it be teasing or genuine. He doesn’t want to hear it, as he scrambles to his feet and tugs his shorts back up his legs, face aflame with a blush. “Very gay. I have to listen to him getting fucked into the mattress every other day, he takes dick like a champ. I don’t think he even knows what a clitoris  _ is _ .”

“Oh.” Nyma responds then, sounding understandably confused.

“Do you mind if I talk to him for a minute? I’ll be right back.” Lance doesn’t wait for her answer either way, marching over and grabbing Keith’s arm, all but dragging him out of the room and slamming the door shut behind them. Standing there shirtless in the hallway he can hear the chatter of other students within their rooms, even watches as a group of guys walks past him. He knows how he must look right now, half-dressed with his hair mussed up and hickeys littered across his neck. 

He doesn’t care, as he narrows his glare on Keith. “What’s your fucking _ problem _ ?”

“I take dick like a champ, do I?” Keith responds without missing a beat, hands settling on his hips. There’s an undeniable air of amusement still lingering about him, but Lance can’t help but feel bad anyway. He hadn’t even been thinking when he said that, he only wanted an easy out. Still, he can’t apologize now and still spare his pride, plus it doesn’t really seem like that’s what Keith is looking for anyway. It almost seems like he just wants to watch Lance squirm.

“Would you _ leave _ ? Can’t you stay at Shiro’s again, why tonight of all nights?”

“Why are you making such a big deal? I thought you had people over every other night, what’s it matter if you strike out this once? Won’t there be another one warming your bed tomorrow?” Keith comes back with, the amusement slowly fading, giving way to that tired grouchiness he’d been radiating when he first walked into their room. Lance shrinks slightly, taking a step backward.

“Well, I mean, yeah, but did you  _ see her _ ? She’s gorgeous.” Lance tries, hoping it comes across as believable. Not that Nyma isn’t gorgeous, she absolutely is, that’s just not the reasoning behind his sense of urgency in the slightest. He just wants to get this over with so he can move on with his life.

“Am I not allowed to sleep in my own bed?” Keith tries then, throwing his hands up in the air. Lance flinches again, intimidated as always by Keith’s natural coolness, and Keith notices this time. He pauses, really looking at Lance, before letting out a deep sigh. “Look, I honestly just want to sleep. I’m sorry that I interrupted you, but I worked late tonight and I’m _ exhausted _ . I’d probably fall asleep behind the wheel before I could make it across town again to Shiro’s.”

Keith really does look tired, Lance can’t deny that. There are dark circles under his eyes, his hair greasy and unwashed, and his lips are chapped, he looks like he hasn’t been taking care of himself at all lately.

“You suck so much.” Lance sighs, shoulders slumping, all of the fight leaving him at once. He’s not going to deny Keith the right to sleep in his own bed, he’s not that much of a dick. And, to be perfectly honest, he’s not really feeling it anymore anyway. 

“I don’t care, pick up where you left off. I’ll put my airpods in, won’t even know what’s going on over there. Scout’s honor.” Keith says then, holding a hand over his heart. The offer seems mocking, but Lance isn’t above being petty, so he decides to go along with it for the hell of it.

“Fine.” He says, his voice a low grumble. “You’d better turn that volume up loud.”

And Lance hates that he’s not actually mad, that he isn’t annoyed at all anymore, but instead feels only fond. That crush he’d been doing such a good job of stomping out is reigniting, a flickering flame gone wildfire.

“Why’s that? Is she a screamer?” Keith asks, turning the knob to the door. He doesn’t push it open though, instead glancing back over his shoulder and winking at Lance. “Are _ you _ a screamer?”

Fuck. Fuck him. Lance hates how ridiculously little effort Keith has to put in to make his heart feel heavy as lead. He wants him so badly it hurts. It’s never been like this, not even with Allura.

With that, Keith kicks open the door and invites himself into the room, completely casual as if there isn’t a naked woman in his peripheral. He heads straight to his bed, snatching his airpods off the bedside table and making a show of slipping them into his ears, meeting Lance’s gaze as he does so. Lance has to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at him. It wouldn’t matter much anyway, as Keith is quick to roll over in his bed to face the wall.

Reluctantly, Lance turns his attention to Nyma instead.

To say she doesn’t look impressed would be a drastic understatement. She looks seething, eyes narrowed into a glare, lips pursed expectantly like she’s just waiting on him to give an apology. Lance steels his nerves, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. His fingers tap his knee nervously, anxiety amounting with each passing second she doesn’t address him.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to leave you-”

“Is he going to stay here?” Nyma cuts him off, her tone sharp. Lance doesn’t even need to follow her line of sight to know that she’s glaring daggers in Keith’s direction, directly at his back. Lance gives a pitiful shrug, helpless to explain himself. “I’m not fucking with him in the same room just… listening to us.”

“He’s gonna put his airpods in.” Lance offers, weakly.

“I’m just gonna go.” Nyma says with an indignant huff, getting to her feet and hastily beginning to pull her clothes back on. Lance really isn’t in a position to try and argue or vouch for himself in any way, so he just leans back against the wall and watches her go. He does offer an apology, but he doubts she hears him over the resounding slam of the door that follows.

“Fuck.” He says, eloquently, into the empty room. 

The muffled laughter he gets in response doesn’t really add up, considering Keith _ should _ be oblivious to what’s going on around him. Lance narrows his eyes at him, daring him to speak up. And he  _ does _ .

“Well, _ that  _ was fast. You need to work on that stamina.” Keith chuckles, stretching his arms high above his head and then rolling over, cuddling up on his pillow to blink over at Lance. Lance’s jaw drops.

“You weren’t supposed to be listening!”

“Oh, come on, you and I both know that wasn’t going any further, don’t look so betrayed. Besides, I forgot to charge these.” Keith rolls his eyes, taking his airpods out and tosses them back on the bedside table. With that, he settles back in against his pillow and closes his eyes. “You mind getting up and turning that light off now that your girlfriend is gone?”

“You don’t believe me.” Lance whispers, deciding there’s no point in avoiding the topic anymore, not when it’s already so very clear even unspoken. Keith thinks he’s _ lying _ . Which… he is, but he doesn’t want Keith to know that. So confrontation is the only answer, to throw him off. “ _ You  _ don’t think I fuck.”

“I never said that.” Keith argues gently, yawning without ever bothering to open his eyes. “I’m sure you do, on very rare occasions, I just think you talk a bigger game than you play. So you can seem cool or whatever it is you’re aiming for.” 

“What do you want from me?” Lance snarls, feeling insecure and cornered, his heart racing away in his chest at being called out on his inexperience. “Written testimonies? A list of reviews? Wanna interview my past lovers in person? Fuck off, you don’t know me.”

“Lovers, huh?” Keith muses, cracking one eye open like a dragon. “How  _ cute _ .”

“I haven’t seen you bring anyone home at all, for the record.” Lance continues, on a roll now, the words flying past his lips so quickly that they’re hard to distinguish even to him. Keith opens both eyes now, paying careful attention, watching as Lance implodes. “Who says  _ you’re  _ not faking it? Huh? That’s what I thought. It’s not like you have any proof, so-”

Lance goes completely silent when Keith holds up a single finger, silencing him with the barest amount of effort, leaving Lance to stew in embarrassment as he thinks back on the outburst. Then, to make matters worse, Keith grabs his phone and then holds it out to Lance a moment later. Lance recognizes the app immediately, only because it’s one of the many he’d downloaded on his quest for a hook-up.

“Written reviews and testimonies.” Keith deadpans. With a sinking feeling of dread, Lance starts to scroll through the long pages of private messages. He clicks on a couple, nearly chokes on the explicitness of the conversation before moving on. Keith, on the other hand, has flopped back against the pillow in utter indifference. “I leave most of them on read afterward even if they want another go at it, I’m not looking for anything serious on that stupid app and sleeping with the same person twice makes it messy.”

Deciding that he’s seen everything he needs to and unable to do anything but accept that Keith fucks,  _ a lot _ , and _ well _ … Lance scrolls back to the very top. It’s there that he takes notice of the dates.

“This one’s from tonight.” Lance mumbles in confusion, clicking on it. The last message was sent less than an hour ago and it’s an emoji-riddled thanks for a good time, asking Keith if he’d be interested in a repeat sometime soon. Lance blinks. Once, twice, three times. Realization dawns on him entirely too late, by then Keith is already grinning like a feral cat. “Oh, you bastard. You get your rocks off then come back and interrupt me for the hell of it! Fuck you!”

Keith laughs then, the sound bursting out of him, until he’s rolling over to bury his face into the pillow and muffle himself. Still, Lance can feel the smugness radiating from him.

“He was good too.” Keith says then, lifting his head. He stares sleazily over at Lance, tongue darting across his lips to wet them. “He fucked me into the mattress and I took it  _ like a champ _ .”

Even though it’s only a parroting of Lance’s own words, it causes heat to pool through him. The thought of Keith, flushed and sweaty, pinned down to the mattress by the bulk of another man pressed against his back. Those narrow hips arched up into it, round ass on display while his hook-up takes full advantage of it and gives it to him hard enough to hurt. Lance feels his cock give a valiant twitch in his boxers, still feeling pent-up after not getting to come earlier. He could cry, he really could.

“I hate you.” Lance says, decisively.

“You know, that’s the thing, I don’t think you  _ do _ .” 

“What the hell’s _ that  _ supposed to mean?” 

“You think I don’t notice you staring? You’re not subtle. Your blatant ogling was part of why I thought you were such a virgin in the first place. Most guys aren’t so amazed to see another man without a shirt on, let’s be honest.” Keith stares over at him, expression lazy and unbothered, like he’s not even entirely invested in the conversation as he ruthlessly calls Lance out. “You have a little crush on me, Casanova?”

“It’s  _ not _ a crush.” Lance snaps, defensive now, not keen on being mocked for his feelings. “You’re an ass, I don’t even like you. I just think you’re hot, your looks are the only thing you have going for you.”

There’s a pause then, like Lance’s words have caught him genuinely off-guard. It’s maybe the first time Keith has ever had to think on a response and Lance can’t help but notice it. For a fleeting moment, Lance worries he’s managed to hurt Keith’s feelings. It’s stupid though, because Keith’s not even looking for anything serious with anyone, why would it matter that Lance doesn’t like him like that?

But then Keith responds, sounding more tired than before and speaking around a yawn, and Lance realizes that he’d probably only been spacing out. Lance is keeping him up, after all.

“So, what is it you want from me then? A hook-up? With your roommate? Sounds  _ messy _ .”

“We could be friends with benefits.” Lance suggests, weakly, and you can hear how much he’s expecting to be rejected in the way he brings it up. Keith doesn’t reply again, seconds ticking by in relative silence, and Lance feels the anxiety gnawing away at his stomach piece by piece. 

“No feelings involved?” Keith says then, considering, and Lance nearly chokes on the breath he’d been holding when it barrels past his lips. He doesn’t even know how to hide his relief when it’s so profound, so he just goes along with it and hopes Keith is on the same page.

“Yeah, just sex, nothing else.” Lance clarifies, feeling inexplicably giddy. “You in?”

All things considered, it’s probably not a good sign when Keith responds with a heavy sigh, but Lance is still optimistic despite it. If he had no interest at all, he would’ve shut Lance down quicker, he’s blunt by nature and has no reason not to be about this. He _ must _ be considering it.

“Go to  _ sleep _ , Lance.” Keith says then, and Lance deflates a little bit, feeling inexplicably crushed as he settles back in against his pillow. They lapse into silence, and Lance is still left wondering if that’s a firm rejection or if Keith is just too tired to discuss it now.

\--

The first few days after that are agonizing, like he’s walking around holding his breath and just waiting for Keith to bring it up again. He’s not exactly expecting him to agree at this point, not by a longshot, but he’d like a more concrete rejection. It’s not even that Keith isn’t  _ around _ , there are a couple evenings when he comes home to study and just sits in his bed, while Lance sits in his on the other side of the room, and they don’t fucking  _ talk about it _ . 

Maybe he was so tired he forgot. Maybe he didn’t think Lance was serious. Maybe he just doesn’t care.

After an entire week passes, Lance begrudgingly admits that nothing’s going to happen between the two of them. For his own sanity, he starts finding excuses to stay away from the dorms as much as possible, not wanting to sit next to Keith with the knowledge that he doesn’t feel the same. He picks up extra shifts at the coffee place, spends long hours in the library studying, and gets back into touch with his friends back home and makes plans for them to come up and visit him.

\--

Something Lance didn’t fully anticipate was how much easier it’d get to talk to Keith after giving up on any potential relationship between them, beyond what they already shared. The pressure to impress had disappeared entirely and even the awkwardness of the rejection started to fade into the background after a while. In a couple week’s time, Lance didn’t even feel like avoiding him quite so much anymore.

One night, Keith comes storming into the dorm room, clearly agitated… and Lance just keeps on reading his book. It’s not his place to ask questions, to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. At this point he isn’t even sure Keith considers him a friend, so it’s probably better to keep out of it.

But, as the minutes pass and Keith continues to sulk in his own bed, Lance feels his curiosity grow to the point of no return. He risks a couple glances up from his book, gaze flickering to where Keith is angrily typing out some manner of text on his phone. Lance bites his lip in consideration for a long moment, then sighs heavily in defeat.

“What’s up?” He says, clearly startling Keith with his voice. The other boy drops his phone, then looks at Lance like a deer caught in headlights. “I can hear your brooding even with my headphones in.”

For a moment, Keith looks uncertain whether he should tell him, but in the end he seems to come to the conclusion that a shoulder to lean on (or, in this case, rant to) is more valuable than his own pride.

“I’m so fucking tired of these straight boys messaging me and then freaking out when the clothes actually come off. What do they expect? It’s not like they’re not aware of what a dick looks like.”

“Oh.” Lance blinks, understanding hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“I mean, this is like the third time it’s happened. We sext, we send pictures back and forth, and then I show up there and suddenly it’s too gay for them? Ugh, I need better taste in men.” Keith leans back against his headboard then, staring dismally toward the ceiling. He really does seem upset, possibly even hurt, though his frustration is on full display to cover that up. Lance hadn’t even thought about that side of hook-ups, but he supposes it would happen a lot on a university campus, where young people are experimenting and finding out what they like.

“Well, you know, my offer still stands.” He’s not sure what it is that inspires him to say it, whether it’s Keith’s dismal expression or maybe his own repressed feelings aren’t buried quite as deep as he thought.

Keith looks at him in confusion, like he truly doesn’t remember what the offer was, and Lance almost considers repeating it by the time recognition dawns in Keith’s eyes. He looks slightly taken aback, like he hadn’t expected Lance to bring it up again.

“What?”

“If you ever decide you get bored of taking chances on strangers.” Lance clarifies with an awkward cough into his fist, struggling to hold eye contact. Maybe he’s never been with a man before, or anyone for that matter, but Lance is at least absolutely certain that he wants to. He knows who he’s attracted to.

Keith keeps staring at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed into a critical stare, and Lance isn’t sure if he’s being judged or if he’s being considered. Finally, a quiet chuckle slips past Keith’s lips, amusement plain in his eyes as he holds Lance’s gaze with ease.

“Is that so? Do you have a 100% satisfaction guarantee?”

“Joke all you want, but sooner or later you’re gonna have to admit you want me.”

“I never said I _ didn’t _ .” Keith responds then, careful and calculated, like he doesn’t want to reveal too much. He really needn’t bother though, not when that laone has Lance’s hopes skyrocketing. As if Keith can tell, he’s quick to start listing excuses. “Only that it’s a bad idea. We live together. Someone’s bound to catch feelings and break the other’s heart. It’s just a matter of time before it falls apart.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” Lance counters, eyebrows raised. Keith scoffs.

“Yeah, but what if it  _ does _ ?” With that, he turns back to his phone, seemingly considering the conversation closed. “It’s not gonna happen, Lance. I’m not interested in hooking up with you.”

Fine. Well, at least he has his answer, even if it’s deeply unsatisfying when he knows in no uncertain terms that Keith wants him the same way he wants Keith. It’s fine, they’ll just never act on it, that makes total sense. Stupid Keith.

\--

Allura is the first to come visit him at uni, given she lives in the nearby city and doesn’t have to go far out of her way to stop in. It’s nice to see her again, it really is, Lance forgot how close of friends they were before they dated and inevitably broke up. Now that the heartbreak isn’t swaying him, he really does think he prefers it this way. It’s easier like this, the both of them just hanging out, not worrying about trying to make their future plans align. They drive around and check out all of Lance’s favorite spots, then she shows him some of hers, and they end the day by going for a swim at the beach. 

It’s… really nice. It takes Lance’s mind off of Keith and the mess that’s going on between them. 

He drops her off at her apartment and then drives back to his dorms with a smile on his face, feeling more at peace with himself than he has in a long while. All of that promptly flies out the window the moment he steps back into his dorm room to find the place torn apart. Chairs tipped over, pillows and blankets in a pile on the floor, half of their drawers hanging open. He immediately reaches for his phone, ready to report some manner of break-in, but then Keith walks out of the bathroom with a frazzled look on his face. 

Lance doesn’t even get the chance to say hi before Keith notices him there, his eyes widening comically. 

“You’re back!” Keith seems overjoyed by that fact and Lance can’t make sense of why. He watches the other boy cross the room, hastily grabbing for Lance’s lanyard where it hangs around his neck. “I can’t find my fucking keys anywhere, did you take them? I have work in half an hour and it takes that long to get across the city in a car, let alone on foot. There aren’t any buses running that direction for another hour and the cab service says they’ll be another twenty minutes before they have someone available so I need-”

“I can give you a lift.” Lance cuts him off, waving him off. “I don’t have your keys, but we can find them later. For now let’s just get you to work as close to on-time as we can.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Keith breathes, grabbing his work bag out of the mess on the floor and following Lance out of the room. It’s the first time they’ve traveled anywhere together, or really hung-out outside of their own dorm room, and Lance can’t help but feel like they’re making progress here.

His car is parked on the other side of the lot, but they reach it fast enough. Lance unlocks and pries open the passenger side door, gesturing to the messy seat for Keith. “Don’t mind the mess, just push it to the floor. There’s nothing important there anyway.”

With that, Lance hurries around to climb behind the wheel. He starts the car up and Keith is still shuffling around next to him, pushing takeout wrappers to the ground with a scowl on his face. Lance thinks nothing of it until he hears a groan a moment later. He glances over, barely sparing a second looking away from where he’s backing out of the parking space, and then promptly freezes.

“Seriously?” Keith deadpans, holding up the lace-covered bra by a single strap, like there’s something foul about touching it with his bare hand. Lance is confused for a moment, before he realizes who it must belong to. Allura had changed into her bathing suit in his backseat.

“Oh, shit, Allura must have forgotten that in my car. I’ll have to call h-”

“Maybe I was wrong about you.” Keith says then, chucking the bra into the backseat. Lance blinks a few times, trying to process what Keith is implying. “I’m just saying, if you got a girl to fuck you in a car this disgusting, you must be somewhat decent at it.”

Oh. Keith thinks he… that makes sense, actually, it’s probably the natural conclusion to jump to.

“You bet I am.” Lance says, pretending not to hear the voice crack that interrupts him mid-sentence. At this point, it isn’t even a careful omitting of the truth, he’s blatantly lying. Still, what does it matter if nothing will ever happen between him and Keith?

“I really can’t wrap my head around it.” Keith muses, leaning back against the headrest. “You’re so awkward talking about sex, I just assumed you were one of those guys that exaggerates everything or blatantly lies about it. Who is _ sleeping  _ with you? You must have a really big dick or something.”

It’s such a casual accusation, it almost seems like Keith isn’t looking for a response. 

But really, he’s just setting himself up for it at this point.

“If you’re so curious, you’re welcome to fuck me in this disgusting car yourself.” Lance answers sleazily, turning to grin over at him as he maneuvers the car out onto the road. Keith groans again, this time deeply, with blatant annoyance. It’s sort-of ridiculously amusing flirting with Keith now that he knows there’s nothing at stake.

“Does that work for you usually? The desperate horny approach?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” 

\--

Eventually, Keith fills Lance in on his entire weekly schedule, and they start planning time to spend together at home. They share meals, watch through the long list of Keith’s favorite movies Lance has somehow gone his entire life without hearing anything about, and talk about boys. Granted, it’s less like the middle school dream where they talk about their plans for weddings and whose last name will be exchanged for whose… and it’s more like the x-rated behind the scenes of a porn shoot. Keith shares sex stories that’ll haunt Lance for the rest of his fucking life, and Lance… retells sex stories from his favorite romantic comedies that Keith has seen none of. It’s a perfect trade-off.

Anyway, the point is, Lance comes to expect Keith popping home for a few minutes at 5:40pm each and every Wednesday, during that small gap between work and his one late-night class each week. He stops in, grabs a shower and something to eat, then he’s gone just fifteen short minutes later. Exactly why Lance had missed him so many times and never even realized he was coming home.

Lance doesn’t miss him anymore. He makes a point to always be home and always be in the middle of conveniently cooking something, whether it be instant noodles or pizza pockets, and Keith is always all to happy to help himself to it. Tonight, Lance has some spaghetti cooking and is waiting on the water to boil, busying himself with some yoga stretches to try and work the crick out of his neck.

He’s bent over in a downward dog when he hears the door click open.

Lance doesn’t even bother to look up, just smiles into his arms as Keith’s heavy boots stomp into the room. He hears the distant thud of his work bag hitting the floor, even the pull of velcro as Keith takes off those atrocious fingerless gloves he wears to the autoshop.

“Welcome back. How was work?” Lance calls warmly, looking over his shoulder at him finally when Keith’s heavy footsteps stop right next to him. He grins harder when he sees the perplexed way Keith is looking at him, like he’s never once heard of yoga. And considering how high his ass is arched into the air, Lance really can’t help but make a playful jab at him. “Feel free to admire the view, I love an audience.”

“Is this your latest attempt at seducing me? Showing off your flexibility?”

“It’s called yoga and it’s good for your joints. I’m not trying to seduce you.” Lance scoffs, like the mere idea of it is ludicrous. Then, as he rolls his neck and shifts his leg behind his head, more to show off than for any stretching purpose, he backtracks like a son of a bitch. “Well, that is, unless it’s working?”

“You’re such a fucking tease.” Keith mutters, in that frustrated and amused way of his, and Lance couldn’t fight the shit-eating grin from his face if he tried. He starts to shift position again, but then Keith grabs his ankle and keeps it exactly where it is, pressed to his nape. “And what if it was, hm?” 

“W-What?” Lance splutters, caught off-guard and entirely off-balance, Keith’s grip the only thing keeping him from toppling forward and falling on his face. Instead, Keith pushes him backward, until he’s lying on his back with one leg still hitched behind his head at the ankle. He blinks stupidly up at Keith, distantly realizing that this particular expression goes a little further than frustrated and amused. Keith looks… ravenous.  _ And not for spaghetti. _

“What if it  _ was _ working?” Keith clarifies, his eyes molten pools of black, and Lance’s eyes go wide as saucers beneath him in realization. It’s not like Keith has never played along before, that in itself isn’t new territory for them… it’s just the fact that this so clearly isn’t playing. A quick glance downward proves it to Lance, when he sees the obvious outline of Keith’s erecton tenting his slacks. 

“Then, I guess I’d keep doing it?” Lance tries dumbly, desperate to keep that particular expression on Keith’s face for as long as possible, even if only to memorize it for late nights alone with his hand. Fuck, Keith is always hot, but this is something else entirely. 

“Yeah?” Keith chuckles, hand sliding down Lance’s left calf, down past his knee, following along the inside of his thigh… he’s dangerously close to crotch territory when he stops and just rubs Lance’s thigh instead with a persistent pressure. “And would you let me pull these stupid tights down over your ass and fuck you just like this? Could you hold this position the entire time, leg over your head and presented to me, like the good little slut you clearly are?” 

Oh. Well… that’s certainly a thought. Lance isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to do yoga again without giving himself a boner, remembering the image Keith has just put into his mind. As it is, he can feel his cock giving a traitorous twitch, and Keith is entirely right about him being on display like this. These yoga pants leave nothing to the imagination and his legs are spread wide, with Keith’s grip keeping them that way. There’d be no missing it if he were to get hard right now.

“Uh, fuck, I don’t know? Probably?”

“Probably.” Keith repeats, sounding awed. Lance can’t remember right now if that’s a realistic answer or not, he’s not sure if he’s ever seen someone get fucked with their leg behind their head, but that’s definitely going to be his next porn search the second Keith leaves for that evening class of his. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty comfortable actually, once you get used to using those muscles it comes naturally and I was in gymnastics for ten y-” Lance stops speaking abruptly when Keith’s hand shifts lower, bypassing crotch territory straight to ass territory, and cupping a handful of one of Lance’s cheeks like it  _ belongs _ to him. Lance’s jaw drops and a squeak of a gasp slips past his pink lips. And, yep, he’s definitely getting hard now, blood rushing southward faster than it ever has.

“You really have no idea what you do to me, do you? One of these days my self-control is gonna snap and I’m just gonna have to take you, consequences be damned.” Keith whispers, so quiet that Lance has to strain to hear it over the roaring rush of his own blood in his ears. It’s raw, like a man torn down to the smallest version of himself, like Keith’s past the point of keeping the admission at bay.

He’d known all along that Keith was attracted to him, he’d said it early on, but he’d been so adamant that he wasn’t willing to sleep with his roommate that Lance assumed it was just entirely off the table. He’d been assuming that for a while, hence how bold he’d gotten with his flirting. It was sort-of fun to tease, to have someone to play that game of back and forth with. 

That was his first mistake, to assume that Keith was above it all.

If it’s a game, it’s a dangerous one, with only one guaranteed end. He can either quit now, or see it through… and judging by the intent look on Keith’s face, he must know that Lance isn’t the type to back down when he _ knows  _ he’s ahead.  _ Consequences be damned  _ is right. 

Suddenly, Lance’s plan to lose his virginity is back on, and it’s on with a vengeance.

Except… Keith isn’t ripping his tights down the middle and taking him like an animal, instead he’s stepping away and headed into their makeshift kitchenette area to dump pasta noodles into the pot, while Lance is left breathless and hard in the middle of the floor. He unfolds himself, straightens up, and simply watches Keith move about the dorm room.

Eventually, those purple eyes find his again, and Keith seems to read his mind.

“I have class, Lance.”

He has class. Right. Virginity loss postponed, but no longer cancelled. It’s happening.

\--

Being honest, Lance planned to give Keith a break after that, to dial back the flirting and the seducing just a tad to give him room to breathe. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s desperate for it, eager and invested… virgin-like. He wants to be cool about it, wants to play the long-game, ideally he wants Keith to come to him. He’s not gonna make himself seem easy, Keith seems like someone who values the chase and Lance has been patient this long. He can hold out.

Except he’s hornier than ever after that particular encounter, so horny he goes out and buys his very first sex toy. It’s pathetic, really, compared to some of the things he’s seen used in porn. It’s a scant two or three inches long, a sleek bullet vibrator that does very little in way of penetration, but does a lot when held to the tip of his cock or teased just behind his balls. Once or twice, he tries pressing it inside of himself, but it doesn’t come anywhere close to what he needs. 

So, naturally, by the time a week passes and Lance has gotten as creative as such a simple toy will allow him to be… he decides to up the stakes a little bit. 

It’s both his best and worst idea he’s ever had, crawling butt-naked into Keith’s bed, settling in against smooth black sheets with a blush flaming across his entire body. He’s mortified at himself for even considering it, but he’s also achingly hard, so hard it fucking  _ hurts.  _ His mind is made-up from the very first breath he draws, inhaling a lungful of Keith’s scent, deep and Earthy and fresh, like a man that uses Irish Spring brand soap  _ and _ shampoo… fucking idiot. Lance thinks he might love him.

It starts off simple enough, he knows Keith’s schedule down to the most minute detail now, but even then he’s paranoid that he’ll show up out of the blue. He wants it to be quick. He’ll come with a few hasty tugs on his cock, clean up the mess, and that’ll be it. Keith won’t be home for almost an hour, so he has plenty of time to get himself off like that and still clean up afterward. 

He starts out strong, pumping his cock in his fist with his teeth gnashing on his bottom lip, sweat clinging to his brow as he bucks up into his own hand. It’s good, really, it wrings the pleasure out of him so relentlessly that it really does border on painful. Or maybe it’s  _ actual  _ painful, maybe he could do with some lube…

So he gets the lube out, tosses the bottle onto Keith’s bedside table, and slicks himself up with his hand.

It’s immediately better, his eyes rolling back into his head at the first gentle touch of his hand. This time when he curls his fingers around his length, stroking his cock back to full hardness again, he’s gentle about it. He doesn’t try to tear an orgasm out of himself, he lets it build a little bit, stoking the embers of a growing flame. It’ll feel more satisfying this way and then he won’t need to get off in just a couple hours, when the urge hits him again. Besides, he still has half an hour, he’s _ fine _ .

So fine, in fact, he probably has time to get that little bullet vibrator out and make the whole experience just that much better. 

From the very first touch of the vibrator to the leaking tip of his hard cock, he’s already tossing and turning his head from side to side on the pillow. He can’t help but wonder how many times Keith has done exactly that while getting himself off in this very bed… long black hair fanned out across the pillow, those thick eyebrows of his scrunched together in concentration, pressing a vibrator-

Something tells him that Keith wouldn’t just tease the head of his cock with a fucking bullet, he’d probably go big or go home. He probably has a nice big dildo for this very purpose, one that he fucks into himself hard and cruel-like, enjoying the burn of being stretched to wide on a fake cock.

With that thought, Lance’s hand slips lower, letting the smooth little vibrator follow the line of his cock down past his balls, to nestle against the twitching rim of his hole. He still has fifteen minutes, after all.

He’s just barely pressed the lubed vibrator inside of himself, finger urging it deeper while still mindful not to go so far that he loses his grip on it, gasping and jerking at the feeling of it buzzing away against his prostate… when the door swings open. Ten minutes early. Shit.

He doesn’t even have time to wrench the vibrator out of himself, instead he clamps his thighs together and settles in for the most uncomfortable conversation of his life while it’s still pressed inside of him.

“Hey Lance, are you h-” Keith cuts himself off damn fast when his gaze falls on his roommate, huddled up under the covers in his own bed, writhing so obviously that there’s really nothing left to question. It’s damningly obvious what Lance had been doing under those blankets. Keith definitely knows too, as Lance watches emotions flicker across his face rapid-fire. “Do you… have somebody under there?”

For a moment, Lance considers lying and saying he does. It’d be less embarrassing, in a way, to be sneaking around behind Keith’s back with a hook-up rather than sneaking around behind his back to lust after him so plainly. It might even get Keith to leave the room, give the two of them some privacy so they can finish up… but likely not. He’d probably stand right where he is now, staring Lance down, just for the sake of making them both uncomfortable. Nope, this is one of those situations where the truth is really his only option, no matter how horrible it may be.

“Nope.” Lance says, swallowing hard, shifting against the vibrator still lodged inside his ass. He doesn’t wanna lose it up there, that’d be an embarrassing trip to the ER, but he can’t fucking stay still. Between Keith’s heavy unreadable gaze settled on him and the sensation alone, it’s impossible not to react. 

“So, let me get this straight. You’re naked, alone, in my bed?” Keith prompts, quirking an eyebrow, and Lance has no choice but to answer him with a meek little nod. “Are you touching yourself? Right now?”

Fuck.

“Uh, yeah?” Lance croaks out, hoping desperately that Keith won’t get too mad at him for it. 

“This is a little extreme, even for you.” Keith sighs then, terribly long and drawn-out, and Lance dives straight into panic-mode. He doesn’t want Keith to be mad at him or disgusted by him, those are the worst possible outcomes. It’s a thought that causes him so much dispair his cock starts to soften even with a vibrator buzzing dangerously close to his prostate. He definitely took it too far this time.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking, I’ll clean everything, I’ll buy you new bedding, I’ll-” 

“Alright. Let’s do it.” Keith cuts him off, his tone firm, and Lance does mental somersaults over himself to try and keep up with the sudden whiplash turn in the conversation. Keith is looking at him expectantly, like he should be reacting more, but he’s still struggling to piece together what Keith is suggesting. 

“Hm?”

“I give, you win.” Keith says then, hands settling on his hips as he stares down at Lance. “Let’s fuck.”

Well, he really can’t be any more straightforward than that, can he? For all of the weeks he’s spent looking forward to exactly that confession, the reality of it sends panic through Lance like an electric current, his heart beginning to race even faster. He’s ready, of course he’s ready, he’s been ready for so fucking long it’s not even up for debate anymore… so why is he still so nervous now?

“ _ N-Now _ ?”

“No time like the present. You’ve probably already got three fingers shoved up inside of yourself. That’s half the work taken care of.” Keith muses with an air of indifference that’s a far cry from what Lance is feeling right about now. Keith takes a few steps toward the bed and Lance flattens himself back against the mattress, in the same instance his cock gives a traitorous twitch. Keith seems amused, like he can read each and every one of the conflicted emotions flickering across Lance’s face. “I’m right, aren’t I? You were fucking yourself with your own hand pretending it was me.”

“Something like that.” Lance mutters, biting his lip hard as Keith settles on the very edge of the bed, placing a hand on Lance’s thigh over the heavy layer of blanket covering him. Even that touch sets him alight, he’s sure that feeling Keith touch his bare skin would kill him. He’d never recover.

“Can I see?” Keith coos then, uncharacteristically gentle about it as he grips the edge of the blanket and starts to pull it back. Maybe he can tell how ridiculously nervous Lance is, or maybe he just doesn’t want to come on too strong, but it still isn’t enough to settle Lance enough to let him pull the blanket back. He isn’t wearing a damn thing right now and he still has the vibrator inside himself, while Keith is sitting there fully dressed.

But Keith is persistent, hand smoothing up and down Lance’s thigh, eyes filled with desire where they watch Lance’s blushing face. “Come on, baby, don’t be shy now. You’ve been teasing me for so long.”

It’s true, really, Lance has been teasing him for a long time. He knew this was coming and it is what he was after all along, it just seems more intimidating presented with it. Especially when Keith has no idea just how inexperienced he really is. He doesn’t want to make a fool out of himself and give his secret away in the heat of the moment, but… it’s better that it’s Keith than a stranger.

Reluctantly, Lance nods his head, and Keith slowly peels the blanket back from his bare body. Keith drinks up every inch of skin that’s exposed, gaze so heavy Lance feels it like a physical weight on his chest, moving steadily downward until the blanket is left covering him from only the knee down.

He’s never felt particularly insecure about his cock, he knows he’s slightly above average, but it’s hard not to second guess himself when Keith is the one appraising him like this. His expression is hard to read beyond the blatant lust swallowing his features whole, but Lance thinks it’s about as positive of a reaction he can get, given Keith follows it up by dropping his hand down and wrapping it around said cock.

Lance yelps in shock, bucking up into his touch without thinking, forgetting all about being lowkey about his reactions. Keith doesn’t seem bothered though, giving him a few good strokes from root to tip before losing interest and venturing lower. Lance’s eyes go comically wide in realization, but by then it’s too late to try and squirm away, as Keith’s fingers trace over his rim, slick with lube and still stretched minutely around the bullet vibrator. Keith glances up at him, searching, and Lance nods his assent to the unspoken question. Sure enough, Keith grips the vibrator and eases it out of his body a second later.

Lance is sure he sees the corner of Keith’s lips quirk in amusement.

“ _ What _ ?”

“It’s cute.” Keith offers, and now he’s full-on smirking, having way too much fun watching the tiny vibrator jump around in the palm of his hand. “Might be the smallest sex toy I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut-up.” Lance hisses out, seething with embarrassment, and it only makes Keith more amused by the entire situation. He throws his head back and laughs, before finally turning the toy off and setting it aside on the table. Lance is still glowering at him. “I bet you have one the size of your forearm, don’t you?”

“I do, actually.” Keith doesn’t sound like he’s joking. Lance chokes on his own tongue, regretting ever saying anything about it. “I’ll show you, I gotta grab more lube anyway, yours looks pretty well-loved.”

By well-loved, he means empty, given Lance had used the very last of his pathetically tiny travel-sized lube bottle just now. He’s still nervous about buying it from stores and he wouldn’t dare have it shipped straight to the dorm mailroom, so he just sort-of… panics and grabs the first thing he sees. Or, in this case, the most offending tiny bottle of lube the store offered, so he could try and slip it in with his other grocery purchases. Granted, they still had to scan it, and the awkwardness might have been worse than if he’d just bought a normal bottle.

Either way, it has Keith shuffling off the bed and reaching beneath it, and by that point Lance is far more curious than he is nervous. He rolls over, peering over the edge of the bed while his cock presses into the mattress, straining for attention now that it’s going ignored.

Keith pulls a heavy-looking box out from beneath the bed and lifts the cover off, looking up at Lance with his eyebrows raised and his lips stretched into a downright filthy smile, as if he’s proud of himself.

Damn, maybe he should be. 

“Holy shit.” Lance breathes, gaze flicking between the wide array of sex paraphenilia Keith is showing off to him. There are dildos and vibrators, yes, so many of them in such a variety of shapes that Lance is honestly a little concerned for Keith’s poor little butthole. But there’s plenty of other things too, from leather whips and a spreader bar, to an ornate box of what Lance is pretty sure are sounding rods though he can’t be sure because he’s only ever seen a sounding video once and he promptly clicked out of it because of how it unsettled him. “That’s… a lot of sex toys.”

Keith is still grinning up at him and Lance wonders if Keith has really used all of this at some point, or if he uses them on a regular basis. He stares for so very long, wide-eyed and unbreathing, that Keith must mistake his fascination for interest rather than fear.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re still having vanilla sex with all your hook-ups. Catch up, Casanova.” Keith jokes, winking up at him. Lance blinks a few times, drawing a heavy breath, hurriedly playing it off with a cough. “Anything here catch your eye? Something you wanna try? Something you wanna do… or want me to do to you?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, half of the things in that box look terrifying right about now but damn if it doesn’t turn Lance on to think about Keith walking him through how they work. Gently working him open and stretching him for one of those massive dildos, tying him up with that fine-quality red rope-

“I’ve tried it all already, I’m just surprised you have.” Lance blurts, clinging onto the lie with white knuckles and desperation. Keith scoffs at him, disbelieving, and Lance decides to take it even further and insult him a little. “You struck me as a real boring missionary type, thought all the leather was for show.”

He immediately recognizes his mistake when that spark of a  _ challenge _ comes to life in Keith’s eyes.

“Is that so?” Keith starts digging through the box then and Lance mentally curses himself for even speaking up. He should have just nodded or shook his head, that way he couldn’t talk himself further into this hole he finds himself in. A moment later, Keith tosses a ball gag and handcuffs up onto the bed, quickly followed by lube and condoms. “Let’s play then. I’ll show you how far I am from boring.”

“Alright. Fine.” Lance scoffs, deciding to grasp at straws one last time. He picks up the handcuffs and swings them around on his finger. He hopes he comes across as confident, but Keith’s niggling little smile is doing little to reassure. “You wanna wear these while I fuck you? Go for it.”

At that, Keith actually wheezes, before dissolving into hearty laughter from the belly of his chest.

Fuck.

“Sweetheart, I’m  _ so  _ fucking you.” Keith tells him like it’s a fact of life, not open for negotiation in the slightest, like they’d already decided on this weeks ago and Lance has somehow forgotten. Hell, maybe they did, they did joke about who would top or bottom a lot. He’d just hoped that maybe he could change the direction of things, figured it’d be slightly less intimidating to stick his dick in someone rather than have a dick stuck in him. 

He’s never even managed to take more than three fingers, how the hell is he going to take whatever Keith’s packing? Oh god, it’s probably big, it’s probably huge, there’s no way he’s this cocky with a cock that’s anything less than mass-

“Look, stop sulking, I don’t care what you say or how many girls you fuck, you’ve got bottom written all over you. So eager to please, so desperate for approval, you’re literally already all lubed up and ready for me to play with.” As if to prove his point, Keith crawls back onto the bed and reaches down between Lance’s cheeks, rubbing two fingers over his pucker and feeling the easy way it gives. Lance moans weakly, rutting down against the bed. “I bet you’d beg for my cock so sweetly, wouldn’t you? Come on, ask me nicely.”

“Like hell. I’m not gonna beg you for anything.” Lance snaps, even as his fingers grip at the edge of the mattress, curling so tightly it starts to ache in his joints. He ends up biting down hard on the edge of the mattress when Keith pushes both of those fingers inside of him at once, the sick squelch of lube so audible in the room that Lance feels like they’re in the middle of a porn shoot. 

It’s really not that much of a stretch, he’d just had his little vibrator inside of himself and Keith did take the time to add extra lube to his fingers, but it feels like a lot with such a sudden jump. Especially because Keith gives him no time at all to adjust to it, just starts gently thrusting them into his body, crooked at just the right angle to-

Lance cries out, loud enough that Keith shushes him loudly and spanks his bare ass with his free hand, which in turn only makes him whimper louder. It’s never been like this. His own fingers don’t reach that deep, even crooked at the most uncomfortable angle they only just barely graze his prostate, and his tiny vibrator really didn’t do much either. This is different, this is heavy insistent pressure, as Keith drags the pads of his fingers over that sensitive bundle of nerves. Over and over, until Lance is squirming back against his hand rather than away from it, humping down against the bed with no rhythm or finesse.

When Keith speaks again a moment later, his voice is quieter, laced with blatant arousal. How it is that Lance is somehow more attractive when he’s not trying to be, when he’s lost his head to the point he forgets entirely about his image, is a mystery. Maybe that’s part of it, the loss of inhibitions, the state Keith has reduced him to so ridiculously easy. He can’t even fucking deny that it felt good now.

“You ever been fucked before, Lance?” Keith asks, straight to the point, and Lance wants to fucking cry. 

“Obviously.” He spits out, even though he definitely hasn’t, though he certainly would have been even more apt to try if he knew it could feel like this. As if to punish him for the shortness of his answer, Keith starts to pull his hand back only to thrust his fingers back into Lance’s body with a third accompanying them, aiming straight for his prostate. Lance moans, long and loud, and Keith gives a matching groan from behind him.

“Fuck, we’re really gonna need that gag when I start fucking you, aren’t we? You’re loud. I can’t believe you asked to top when you clearly love having your ass played with.” Keith accuses playfully, and Lance can practically hear the smile behind the words, and that helps reassure him a little bit. This is Keith after all, he knows Keith, he’ll stop if he does anything that makes Lance uncomfortable.

“I just prefer it the other way around, is that a  _ crime _ ?”

“Yes.” Keith answers, simply. Lance has half a mind to argue with him, to get genuinely heated about it as if he actually has any real experience to base this preference on beyond just wanting to be the one in control. “If you actually prefer topping, then you haven’t been fucked  _ well _ . That’s a crime.”

Oh, fuck you, Keith. Lance feels fucking drunk, as he keeps rocking those three fingers in and out of Lance’s body, so effortless that Lance doesn’t even feel the strain at all. He’s pretty sure he could slip a fourth in, hell, the whole fist. Keith is just so infuriatingly good at this and it shows.

“Cocky, aren’t you? Who says you know how to fuck well? Your  _ Grindr reviews _ ?” Lance is expecting it to dissolve into more of an argument after that, he’s not expecting Keith to lean over him and press his lips to the nape of his neck, where the little baby hairs are curling with sweat. Keith kisses him sweetly, nuzzling into his hair, whispering so quietly that Lance has to pay attention to hear him.

“Let me show you. Please?”  _ Damn it. _ “I’ll take care of you, make it good for you.”

“Next time I’m fucking you.” Lance snarls, like that’s any kind of threat at all, especially to Keith who clearly likes things of all shapes and sizes up his ass. He proves it too, when he just giggles in response, pulling away from Lance’s back and slipping his fingers free from his hole.

“Deal.” Keith grins, cheeky, and Lance wishes desperately that those dimples weren’t so cute. It hurts his heart, how absolutely whipped he is for this man. “On your back, hands to the headboard.”

Lance veers back into reality in an instant, remembering the toys Keith had pulled out earlier with sudden sparking clarity. His mouth feels dry, like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and he doesn’t know a damn thing he can say to justify opposing it. Especially not after teasing Keith in the first place.

So, with a fluttering hummingbird heartbeat in his chest, he rolls onto his back and lifts his hands up to grip the wooden headboard. It’s embarrassing, watching Keith lean over his naked body while still fully dressed, weaving and maneuvering the cuffs into place through the headboard. 

The cuffs are soft at least, lined with a fine leather inside rather than bare metal, as Keith carefully fits them to his wrists with a damning click. Lance is, for all intents and purposes, stuck.

He’s stuck exactly where he is as Keith climbs out of the bed and finally starts to undress. Lance still feels a little shy about watching him so blatantly, but he imagines that’s the point, so he tries not to talk himself out of it as he watches Keith pull his shirt over his head. His lust is doing a damn good job of battling his anxiety into submission now that Keith is getting naked and all of those muscles are on display again. He even spots a couple tattoos now that he’s really allowing himself to look.

He pulls his pants down next and the outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear is enough to spark Lance’s fear all over again. His underwear quickly follow suit, given they weren’t doing much of anything anyway, damp with pre-cum and clinging obscenely to his cock in a way that leaves little to the imagination. Not that Lance would dare to say anything about Keith’s cock is little.

So, on the plus side, Lance’s theory had been correct. Keith  _ does _ have a massive cock. Long and slender, uncut, with thin blue veins running all along the underside, nestled in neatly-trimmed black hair.

“Like what you see?” Keith asks, reaching down to stroke himself, and Lance’s eyes nearly bug out of his head because Keith’s fist doesn’t even cover _ half _ of the shaft. Oh fuck. Lance feels his butt cheeks clench together on principle alone. “Not too big for you, is it? Puts that little baby vibrator to shame, yeah?”

Keith is still stroking himself when he climbs onto the bed, settling between Lance’s legs and stroking his free hand over one. Lance steels his nerves and wraps them around Keith’s hips, guiding him in closer. He watches Keith tear open the condom package with his teeth before sliding it over his cock, all the while wondering how that’s meant to fit inside of him. Thankfully, Keith is generous with the lube, as he strokes it over himself and then adds even more to Lance’s hole despite how loose and sloppy it already feels. But all in all, the final stages of prep only take a minute, and then Keith is climbing over the length of his body until they’re face to face, that heavy cock hanging just above Lance’s own.

Lance swears his teeth are gonna tear through his bottom lip with the way he’s worrying it between them, but he doesn’t dare stop. He’s looking down between them, to where Keith’s cock seems to dwarf his own even if it’s only a couple inches bigger in reality, and he’s so focused on it that he doesn’t even see it coming when Keith ducks down to  _ kiss him _ .

It starts out a barely-there brush of their lips together, closed-mouth, hesitant in a way that Lance has never known Keith to be. It’s almost like he expects Lance to reject him, to push him away, that fucking is fine but kissing is crossing a line. Lance decides to squash those fears right away, wishing desperately he could reach up and thread his fingers through Keith’s luxurious hair to haul him in, but instead settling for arching up into it as much as the handcuffs will allow and kissing Keith back with a fiery need.

It’s unlike any other kiss Lance has ever had, it’s not soothing and sweet, it’s passionate the whole way through as they move together. It’s a mirror of the rest of their relationship, the easy give and take, the way Keith licks into his mouth and then Lance nips at Keith’s bottom lip as he pulls back. It feels organic, like they’re finally on the same level, equal in their footing. Keith kisses as hard and determined as he does anything else, and Lance doesn’t hold back in meeting him with just as much gusto.

It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you reeling afterward, practically a revelation with how heavy the emotions precede it. Lance isn’t sure if he’s more turned on or in love, as he collapses back against the pillows and blinks dazedly up at Keith, who’s wearing a similarly awed expression. 

“I wanted to do that at least once before we put the gag on.” Keith admits, and Lance watches in rapt fascination as a blush spreads across _ his _ face for a change. Lance leans up to kiss him again, just a peck this time, and Keith smiles into it. When Keith pulls back, he’s smiling so hard that Lance can’t help but mirror it, his fears melting away bit by bit. “Damn. It’s almost a shame to shut you up when I know what pretty noises you’ll make. We should do this somewhere more private next time. Maybe we’ll fuck in your disgusting car after all, I’ll lower my standards just for you.”

“Maybe I’ll clean it, just for you.” Lance responds easily and they both start to laugh, pressing their foreheads together as they share the air between them. And it’s perfect, it’s everything a first time should be, and Lance wonders why he ever doubted that. Keith is exactly the right person to be doing this with, he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Then Keith pulls away to fumble with the gag and Lance suddenly remembers all the little imperfections, all brought about by his own stupid web of lies. That’s the one thing he would change, if he could, he would have been honest with Keith from the start. He deserved that much.

Before Keith can move to fit the gag around his head, Lance hurriedly interrupts him.

“Hey?” Lance says, quiet still, clinging to the fraying edges of the gentle moment they’d just shared. Keith pauses, unfurrowing his brow as he looks up at Lance, his face completely open and earnest. Lance wants to tell him the truth, he really does, but he knows how that’ll go over. It’ll be a big confrontation and everything might fall apart in the aftermath of it, he just doesn’t know if he can do that to himself.

Or to Keith.

“Yeah?” Keith asks, a dopey little grin on his face, and Lance doesn’t have the heart to ruin this.

“Go slow, it’s been a while.” Lance says instead, settling for the next best thing. Keith’s smile doesn’t darken in the slightest, if anything it seems to grow brighter, a thousand-watt beaming smile that Lance never wants to be the one to chase away.

“Practically a blushing virgin, aren’t you?” Keith jokes, not unkindly, but entirely unaware of the irony behind the entire situation. And with that, Keith fits the gag around his head, the ball settling between Lance’s lips and keeping his jaw wide. He already feels the first hint of drool attempting to spill from the corner of his mouth and hopes desperately that that’s part of the appeal and not something Keith will find off-putting. He’s not sure he could stop it if he tried. “How’s that? Not too tight?”

Lance tries to speak and only muffled mumbling makes it through the gag, so instead he nods.

It’s during situations like this that Lance can’t help but wonder why he backs himself into these corners, never even been given a handie before, and now he’s bound and gagged and set to take a cock for the first time. Here and now, he’s making a vow, no more lying. He’s gonna be 100% truthful from now on, from the second the gag comes off.

He fights the urge to clamp his legs shut, instead closing his eyes so tightly he sees spots of color behind his lids and bracing himself for it. He knows he should relax, he’s just not sure he can. Especially when he feels the first press of Keith’s cock to his rim, feels the slight pressure behind it, the way the muscles just barely start to give around it and let him in-

And then Keith’s phone starts ringing across the room, where it’s buried deep in his work bag. Lance snaps his eyes wide open and the look on Keith’s face is priceless, maybe worth all the stress and panic Lance has put himself through. He looks furious, as he pulls away and stomps completely naked across the room. Lance watches him go with his gaze glued to that round ass, watches the bounce of his cheeks with each step, and then reminds himself that next time, if all goes well, he gets to _ fuck _ that.

And then Keith bends over to retrieve his phone and Lance can’t even cover himself to hide the indecent way his cock is drooling pre-cum against his abdomen. Whatever, Keith isn’t looking anyway.

“Fuck. It’s my boss, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” Keith informs him, turning around to head for the bathroom. He pauses though, grin growing downright feral as his gaze falls back on Lance, spread out and cuffed to the bed. Keith licks his lips. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Lance glares at him, hoping that alone conveys how little he appreciates the joke.

The call takes a couple minutes altogether, Lance listens to the quiet chatter behind the door, unable to pay attention to anything else in his current state. He can’t make out words, but Keith’s tone tells him that it’s hardly a nice phone call. He’s bickering with his boss about something, all sharp and snappy, and Lance tries not to be too amused by it. He can’t help but wonder what Keith’s boss would think if he knew what he was interrupting right now.

The argument doesn’t seem to die down as the call progresses, if anything it grows more heated as it goes on, until it abruptly stops. The door opens a moment after that and Keith walks out looking completely drained, that bright smile from before nowhere to be seen. Still, there’s something about seeing Keith angry that’s always been hot, the scowl he wears just seems to work for him. Lance squirms impatiently as Keith approaches the bed, picturing all the rough and angry ways Keith might fuck him now. He’s not sure if he can handle it, but damn does he want it.

Instead, Keith reaches behind his head and undoes the gag.

Lance blinks up at him in confusion, quickly swallowing all the excess saliva that’d been pooling in his mouth. Keith doesn’t wait for him to come back to himself enough to ask, he just starts explaining right away, in that growly annoyed voice of his that has Lance’s cock twitching.

“Some asshole is complaining about the work I did to his bike, he wants me to come in and look it over again. I’m not really being given the option to say no.” Keith mutters, settling a hand on Lance’s thigh and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We might have to postpone this.”

“Oh.” Lance hadn’t been expecting that. Maybe it’s for the best though, for how much he’s ready, he’s not sure he’s _ ready _ -ready. They can put a pause on things and then talk about it before anything happens between them. Lance can come clean, tell him the truth, and then assuming Keith doesn’t hate him after finding out he’s been lied to this entire time… they can pick up where they left off. 

“Yeah, I know. It sucks.” Keith huffs, wrapping his fingers around Lance and giving him a few tight strokes, paying special attention to the swollen head of his cock. Lance moans. Scratch that, this is the worst thing that could possibly happen to him. He’s ready. He’s  _ so _ ready. He wants to do this right this fucking second, he doesn’t know if he can wait another minute for it. “Just seems a shame after taking all this time to stretch you, baby, I said I was going to take care of you and now I have to leave you like this.”

“Fuck.” Lance says, rather eloquently, clearly taking full advantage of having the ability to speak at his disposal again. He rocks his hips up into Keith’s touch, fucking his fist in clumsy aborted thrusts, feet sliding across the sheet as he tries to ground himself. “Guess I’ll have to make use of that extensive sex toy collection of yours while you’re gone.”

It’s a joke. It’s mostly a joke. It’s not received as a joke.

Keith’s eyes narrow in on Lance like a predator to prey, pupils blown so wide they nearly engulf the purple of his irises entirely. It would seem Lance has said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, he’s not exactly sure when Keith looks that damn feral about it.

“You’re right.” Keith breathes, not revealing so much as a hint at what he has planned. He unwraps his hand from around Lance’s cock though and Lance is immediately certain that he doesn’t like this idea, simply for that reason. “Spread your legs for me.”

“What are you doing?” Lance asks, even as he does as he’s told without question, dropping his legs to the mattress on either side of himself and presenting himself. Keith hums his approval, before leaning over to start trifling through the sex box again. Lance drops his head back against the pillow and chuckles, wondering what he’s done this time. “It better not be the sounding shit, I’m not into that.”

“It’s not.” Keith laughs, shooting Lance an amused look, like he hadn’t realized he was paying that close of attention to the box’s contents. He sits up then, and though Lance can’t see what he’s holding, he assumes he must have found whatever he was looking for. “Don’t look so nervous. It’s just a vibrator and I know for a fact that you like those.”

Lance can’t really argue there, and he’s not sure he wants to. He feels remarkably sensitive, keyed up like he’s never been, and at this point he’s just desperate for some kind of stimulation before he goes mad.

He can’t really see without straining against his cuffs, so Lance decides to just trust that Keith knows what he’s doing and settles back against the pillow. He keeps his legs spread wide even as his eyes fall shut, listening to the quiet sounds of Keith fumbling with the lube and slicking up whatever toy he has.

Lance feels the press of it to his rim a moment later and he barely even has time to register the size or shape before it’s pushed into him. He cries out as the toy breaches him, immediately aware that the tip is the narrowest part of whatever it is, and it only seems to get wider the more Lance takes. He realizes that it’s a plug only when the girth tapers off again, and then the base of it is nestled against his rim.

It doesn’t hurt, really, not now that it’s still and settled inside of him. It’s just fiercely uncomfortable. 

Compared to the only ever things Lance has taken up his ass, long slender fingers and the oblong tiny two-inch long vibrator he just started experimenting with… this egg-shaped plug from hell is stretching him in ways he’s never been stretched. At the middle, it might even be thicker than Keith’s cock itself.

Which, he supposes, is possibly the point. To hold him open and ready for Keith’s cock, whenever he gets back, but still. He can’t imagine laying here the entire time with this thing just inside of him. It doesn’t even feel good! What’s the point beyond convenience, he doesn’t care if Keith has to finger him again later, he’d gladly take that over-

Then Keith turns it on and suddenly Lance _ gets it _ .

“Fuck, fuck, f-” Lance moans, throwing his head back and writhing against the sheets, kicking Keith so hard he nearly falls out of the bed in the process. But he can’t help it, the toy is so big, it’s not particularly long but it’s wide, presses up against his prostates and vibrates right there against it with a hell of alot more intensity than his little toy ever did. “Take it out. Fuck!  _ Keeeith _ , hurry up. I won’t last.”

“Actually, I was thinking I’d leave it in.” Keith muses, as he gets to his feet and starts to grab his clothes off the floor. Lance thrashes against his binds, inadvertently jostling the plug deeper inside of himself, and then nearly  _ screams _ . Keith turns to look at him in disbelief, like he can’t believe the sound that’s just teared it’s way past Lance’s lips, and Lance doesn’t even have it in him to feel bashful about it.

It’s… so much. So much more than anything he’s used to. He’s full, so very full, and now that the vibrations are easing the way he’s barely even aware of the dull ache from the stretch. All he feels is the pleasure and he’s drowning in it, unable to ground himself in any way with his hands tied.

Suddenly, the vibrations stop. For a second Lance wonders if he’s broken it by clenching down so hard around it, but Keith is watching him with a knowing little grin, phone held in his hand. Lance is still confused, even as he gasps for air like he’s just run a marathon, chest heaving. “This work issue shouldn’t take longer than half an hour, I’ll be back before you know it and we can pick up where we left off. In the meantime, this will keep you company. It’s hooked up to an app on my phone, I can control it remotely no matter where I’m at. What do you say? Is that too vanilla for you?”

Lance really shouldn’t have insulted Keith’s kinkiness, clearly this is just the tip of the iceberg. 

Keith doesn’t turn it on again so Lance has a couple minutes to come back to himself enough to think, to actually consider what Keith is telling him and what it means. Keith is getting dressed wordlessly beside him, oblivious to the way this entire experience has changed Lance. Fuck, maybe Keith was right, maybe he is a bottom by nature. 

“Are you gonna untie me?” Lance finds it in himself to ask, eventually. Keith scoffs, working through the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down.

“Where’s the fun in that? You could just take the toy out while I’m gone.” Keith makes a valid point, and Lance does want it, he’s just apprehensive about being bound here and at Keith’s mercy. Surely he won’t torture him too much, right? If he still wants to fuck when he gets back then he’ll have to be reasonable, lest Lance be too sensitive to even look at him by then.

Keith turns to look at him, clearly reading the uncertainty on his face now. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, say the word and I’ll take the cuffs off, I just thought it would be fun-”

“I want to!” Lance argues immediately. It’s not even his competitive nature or fear of letting Keith down, he genuinely wants to. He wants to do this and more, he wants to try everything once with Keith, and if he can’t handle a little bit of teasing then he’s probably gonna struggle as they move up. It’s fine. It’s not like it hurts, it’s just a soreness in the back of his mind, and when the vibrations are on he can’t even tell. 

And Keith looks so excited, that boyish charm on full display as he grins down at Lance.

“Perfect. I’ll be back within the hour. You won’t even have time to miss me.” Keith assures him, kneeling beside the bed and grabbing the gag again. Lance groans in annoyance, but drops his jaw nonetheless, because Keith really does have a point with him being loud. Especially once he turns that vibrator back on, Lance isn’t sure he’d be able to keep quiet if his life depended on it. 

Once the gag is secured, Keith grips his jaw tight, fingers smoothing along it. “Oh, and Lance?”

“Hm?” Lance manages, muffled and barely distinguishable, and that’s when he realizes he’s not keeping track of Keith’s other hand. It’s too late now though, as the vibrator buzzes to life inside of him again within an instant, zero to a hundred so fast that he nearly pulls a muscle arching off the bed. He bites down on the gag, groaning like he’s in pain, uncertain if he is… and Keith leans back on his haunches to watch the show like it’s the most amusing thing he’s ever witnessed.

“You’re not allowed to come without me.” Keith tells him then, his tone firm, and now Lance really is in pain from the mere thought alone. He can’t do that. There’s no way he can do that. No matter how much he’d like to delude himself, at the end of the day he’s a virgin that shoots his load with a hair trigger. He’s not even entirely sure if prostate orgasms are real, he’s never had one, but if nothing else he’s going to come when his thrashing and writhing rubs his cock against the sheets for so much as a second.

He shakes his head vehemently and Keith chuckles, the sadistic fuck. Lance could hit him. Or kiss him. Or really anything, he just wishes he could  _ touch him _ right now.

“Come on, baby, you can do it.” Keith coos at him, reaching out and smoothing a hand down his chest, eventually reaching his cock and tracing one finger down the length of it. It does nothing for stimulation, but Lance could swear he’s getting harder, his cock jumping beneath the careful touch. “I want you on the brink, all loud and squirmy, when I finally push my cock into you. Is that so much to ask?”

Lance glares up at him, but that’s really the most he can express when fighting the strong urge to buck his hips and grind back against the toy lodged deep in his ass. So Keith gets to his feet and turns to leave anyway, waving goodbye before disappearing out of the room, just like that. Leaving the toy still buzzing away inside of Lance with no immediate signs of a reprieve. 

\--

It’s only an hour. Sixty minutes. Sixty seconds, sixty times.

It seems daunting right now, but before he knows it he’ll be halfway through it. 

Those are the mantras he keeps repeating to himself during the rare moments when the vibrator comes to a halt inside of him, giving him a chance to unwind the tangle of his thoughts into something coherent again. Keith isn’t exactly generous when it comes to these pauses and Lance can’t help but imagine him, telling off whatever unruly customer has bombarded their workplace with complaints, his hand in his pocket and toying with whatever app controls this stupid torture device.

He hasn’t come yet, but by anyone else’s standards that wouldn’t be particularly impressive considering it’s been fifteen minutes at most since Keith left. All things considered though, considering he’s felt like he was teetering on the edge of release since that first moment the vibrator turned on, it’s not all that bad. As it is, he’s certain that he’s going to come the very second the vibrator comes back to life, and no amount of squirming to avoid the pressure can save him now.

It isn’t long after that that he experiences his first-ever prostate orgasm, determining that not only are they not a myth, they also put any standard orgasm he’s ever had to shame. It isn’t a few seconds of bliss and then oversensitivity, it’s blinding pleasure that tears through his entire body and sets him alight with warmth, and it keeps  _ going _ . He keeps waiting for it to end, his body rigid as he rides out the waves of ecstasy, but he loses track of time passing before he sees the light at the end of the (admittedly lovely, he’s hardly complaining) tunnel.

He’s not actually sure how intense it could have gotten, he’s never given much thought to it or bothered to research, clearly an oversight on his part. Instead, the vibrator turns off abruptly again, and he’s left gasping for air where he lays, humorously tense and rigid against the mattress. 

He wonders, absentmindedly, if that counts toward the no-orgasm rule Keith put in place. 

Not that it matters much when he ends up breaking the rule regardless, but he’d like to know, just for clarification’s sake. His next orgasm is a good ol’ fashioned ejaculatory one, after bending and twisting around in the cuffs in pleasurable agony until he finds himself on his stomach with his arms bent at an ungodly angle. His shoulders are already cramping, but like this he can rut down against the mattress, and the friction against his cock almost comes as a relief by comparison to the constant pressure against his poor, abused prostate.

That’s about the point he loses count of the orgasms, really, mostly because he’s not sure if you can come both ways at once. He comes hard, shooting across Keith’s sheets in long streaks of white that he’s not looking forward to collapsing into afterward, but at this point he’s such a mess of lube and sweat that it’ll hardly matter. It’s intense though, stronger than any other time he’s gotten himself off, and he swears he comes buckets compared to normal with the sheer size of the puddle he’s left panting in afterward. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything anymore. Just that he feels good, so good that it’s bad, the line between pain and pleasure blurring in the worst ways.

Awhile after that, Lance realizes an hour _ must _ have passed, if only because the window over between their beds is no longer illuminating the entire room with light. It’s overcast and dark, painting the room in the red and orange hues of sunset, and Lance can think around the buzzing in his ears enough to realize that must mean it’s closing in on 7pm. That’s well over an hour since he was left tied up here.

And the thing is, well, to be perfectly honest… he has to take a _ piss _ . 

Suddenly, with horrific clarity, Lance is aware that his bladder is uncomfortably full. He’s not leaking or anything, to be perfectly honest he’s not even sure that his muscles work in a way that’d let him piss while the toy is still lodged against his prostate and continuing it’s buzzing assault against it, but damn.

The ache is there in his gut, his stomach straining against it, and he can’t even do a damn thing about it with his hands bound together. All he can do is lie there and hope Keith comes back soon, so he can make a quick exit stage left to the bathroom. 

Lance curls up on his side after that to try and take some of the pressure off of his bladder, gritting his teeth together harder against each wave of pleasure that wracks his frame and urges him to move, either away from or toward it. Instead, he stays as still as possible, trying to hold onto the fraying edges of his control. He’s not hard, he never got hard again after the last orgasm and he’s not sure he can with the overwhelming need to pee overriding any arousal he might have been feeling.

God, imagine pissing in Keith’s bed, he’d never live that down. It’s one thing not being able to control your orgasms, but not being able to control your bladder? That’s worse than being labeled a virgin, that’s something else entirely. That’s one surefire way to get Keith to never look at him again.

It’s harder during those gaps when Keith turns the toy off. It used to be a relief from the battering against his sensitive inner walls, now it takes away his only distraction from the state he’s in. He’s keyed up in a way he’s never been, every single touch sends him reeling, his nerves so alight that the brush of smooth sheets or the grind of the toy’s base against the rim of his hole has him whining into the gag. He’s sure the entire pillow is damp with saliva by now where it drips past his lips, but he can’t help it, and it’s really the last of his concerns when need is crawling through his entire abdomen.

It gets worse as the minutes tick by, worse when darkness envelopes the room and Keith still isn’t back, worse when Lance gets desperate and starts to change positions as much as his bound hands will allow him to. He tries kneeling, he tries laying prone against the mattress, he tries staying on his side, he even tries grabbing an empty glass off of Keith’s bedside table with his feet only to drop it to the floor and shatter it long before he gets the chance to relieve himself in it.

By the end of it, he’s rocking his hips back and forth uselessly, eyes squeezed tightly shut in concentration as he draws long even breaths through his open mouth. The toy is stopped, it has been for a while, and the lack of pressure against his prostate seems to be making the urge to piss worse.

That’s about the time that he hears the key jostling around in the lock of the door and nearly sobs with relief, lifting his head from the pillow and blinking through the tears to watch. Keith stumbles into the room with a grumble, kicking the door shut behind him and then fumbling for the light switch, unaware of the state Lance is in just across the room.

“Well, _ that  _ took longer than I thought it would. I am so sorry, I never would have left you here if I had any idea how long that would take.” Keith announces right away, and Lance really would appreciate it more if he weren’t nearly mindless with the urge to piss himself. Keith doesn’t look at him right away, instead glancing down the line of his own body to watch as his fingers work down the line of buttons on his shirt. Lance wants to shout, but it would be pointless anyway around the gag in his mouth.

Instead, Lance tries his very best to stay still and seem as unaffected as possible, but at this point it really only takes a glance in his direction to see the state he’s been reduced to. Cum drying on his stomach, tears drying in tracks along his face, and his wrists rubbed red and raw from struggling against the cuffs all this time. 

He sees it in Keith’s expression when he finally finishes undressing and actually  _ looks  _ at him, sees the flash of barely-there shock, followed by a dark cloud of desire that swallows him whole. Lance can’t even enjoy it either, still squirming around and fighting to stay in control of himself. Now that the toy isn’t keeping it at bay, he really thinks he could piss all over himself right where he lays, if he wasn’t actively fighting it every step of the way.

Keith crosses the room and ditches the rest of his clothes on the way, until he’s stumbling naked into the bed with Lane again. This time, he doesn’t settle on the very edge of the mattress, and Lance’s legs are pressed too tightly together for him to try and kneel between them again. Instead, he settles in Lance’s lap, bearing his weight down against his thighs, and Lance wants to cry.

“And how’s my little cockslut doing?” Keith cooes, reaching down with deft fingers to unlatch the gag, gently easing it past Lance’s lips and tossing it down the bed. He presses their lips together instead, a demanding kiss full of teeth and tongue, and Lance struggles to keep up with it while his focus is so plainly elsewhere. When Keith shuffles forward to kiss him harder, his weight just barely settles on Lance’s stomach, and Lance wails so loud Keith has to shut him up by kissing him again.

He pulls back a moment later, looking endeared by the whole thing. “Shh, baby, do you want the gag back? Give yourself a break.”

“I need-” Lance tries to explain, he really does make an honest effort, but then Keith grabs his cock and tries to stroke it back to hardness, and all thoughts leave his mind in a crackling blur. His jaw drops, a pained noise slipping past, losing his mind at the feeling of Keith’s thumb rubbing back and forth over the head of his cock. He’s not sure anymore if it’s pre-cum or driblets of piss leaking from the slit, but Keith doesn’t stop, he just keeps _ playing  _ with him. “Hnn, hha, fuck! Fuck! Keith, I can’t, I can’t hold it-”

“Yeah, looks like you’ve already failed to hold it a couple of times.” Keith jokes, running a finger through the mess of cum smeared into Lance’s stomach, bringing it up to his lips and letting his tongue dart out to taste it. Lance throws his head back against the pillows, unable to watch anymore. By this point the pain from holding his bladder for so long hurts worse than the initial stretching had by a longshot, it aches so feverishly that Lance wants nothing more than to just let go. But he can’t, he can’t even think about it, because thinking about it makes him- “How many times?”

“Fucking hell!” Lance roars, when Keith reaches down to grope his balls, fingers pressing into his taint and sending an entirely different spark up Lance’s cock. He’s sure he must be dribbling at this point, but he doesn’t dare bend to look, even that much movement might prove to be too much. “What?!”

“How many times did you come?”

“I don’t know?!”

“So many times that you lost count? Geez.” Keith seems impressed, or maybe disappointed, but Lance can’t really pay attention to anything other than the feeling of fullness in his gut. “I should punish you for that, you know. I gave you an order. Maybe I’ll spank you, ten hits for each orgasm without permission, how does that sound?”

“I  _ can’t _ -”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I can’t wait anymore either. Not when you look like that, like you’ll  _ cry _ if you don’t get my cock. Made to be fucked, weren’t you?” Keith is drastically misreading Lance’s disjointed attempts at communicating the problem, but it’s his own fault for not mustering the courage to be more blunt about it. It’s a simple thing, really, all he has to do is ask Keith to undo the cuffs and let him run to the bathroom for a second. But… the sad reality of it is, he’s not even sure he’d make it to the bathroom at this rate, he’d probably double-over in the middle of the room long before reaching privacy.

He’s screwed, generally speaking, about to be _ literally  _ speaking, and he doesn’t know what to _ do _ .

Keith shuffles backward, spreading his legs apart, but the relief of no longer having his weight pinning Lance to the bed is relief enough that it’s worth the embarrassment of being made to present himself despite the state he’s in. Keith is gentle about it at least, as he reaches down and starts to gently ease the toy out of Lance’s body, but no amount of gentleness could make up for the way it jostles inside of Lance, pressing against all the places he doesn’t want it to. 

He’s not sure if being empty is worse or better at this point, as he clenches down hard to keep from leaking, wishing he could grip down on something hard to distract himself. He’s a mess.

Keith is oblivious, making idle conversation as he slicks his fingers up with lube and gives Lance a cursory stretching. Just two fingers in and out a few times, testing the give of his body and determining him loose enough, and then Keith grabs for the condoms instead. “How’s your jaw? Sore?”

“Uh, a little?”

“Fuck it. We’re not gonna bother with the gag, then. Let them complain, who gives a shit. Your comfort comes first, yeah?” Keith says, and Lance would feel touched by the amount of care, if he wasn’t so preoccupied with the inevitable breaking of the dam. He can feel it, the way his muscles are growing tired with holding it back. 

But Keith is already lining up, pressing the head of his cock to Lance’s rim, rubbing it back and forth through the mess of lube and just barely letting it start to slip inside before retreating just as quickly. 

“Keith.” Lance whines uselessly, uncertain what he’s even asking for anymore. Keith grins at him like he knows though, like he has every intention of giving it to him.

“Feels like I’ve been waiting forever to do this.” Keith admits then, biting his lip hard. “Are you good?”

There’s something about the smile Keith shoots his way, small but certain, filled with so much comforting warmth that Lance can’t help but feel safe even despite all the anxiety threatening to engulf him. He thinks this could have been really nice, in another life, where Lance didn’t lie and cheat his way into it. If they were two guys with real, genuine feelings for each other exploring their bodies together, or even if Keith was walking him through the whole thing step-by-step and showing this gold-hearted side of himself the whole way through. Lance mourns for that other reality.

As it is, he just closes his eyes and reluctantly nods his head. 

“Y-Yeah, I think so, just go slow.” He lies through his teeth, breaking his pact to himself to stop lying, but he can’t exactly tell Keith the truth now. He’ll just have to hold it. Surely he’ll be able to, how long can Keith possibly last? Lance hasn’t pissed himself in over a decade, he’s not about to break that streak now. It’s fine. He’s fine. 

“But you’re not hard?” Keith asks, gently stroking his cock, fingertips tracing over the soft flesh. It takes everything in Lance to keep from wincing away from the touch in his oversensitive state. 

“I just came, right before you got back, I’ll be raring to go again in a minute.” Lance tells him, his smile particularly strained now as guilt wars with his anxiety, becoming one massive dark cloud to loom over him throughout this entire experience. Keith doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he trusts Lance anyway, and that’s maybe the worst part of all of this.

Without any more fussing, Keith winks at him and then looks down to watch as he feeds his cock into Lance’s body. It’s surprisingly easy at first, as heavily-prepped as he is, Lance barely even feels the stretch of it. It’s not until Keith is deeper, almost fully sheathed inside of him, that Lance’s eyes fly open and go wide with discomfort. He scrambles, fingers clawing at the cuffs, squirming uselessly on Keith’s cock because it’s deep, pressed so deep, surely it must be pressing directly against his bladder. 

“What’s wrong?!” Keith isn’t asking anymore as much as he’s demanding answers. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, I just, it’s-” Lance cuts himself off with a pathetic whimper, wishing desperately he could reach down to cover himself at least, as he feels the first spurt of piss hit his stomach. Now that the dam’s broken, any effort to hold it longer is pointless. He feels tears of embarrassment building in his eyes, even as his body sings at the first sign of relief. “I can’t do it. I can’t. Untie me, get off, I need to-”

“Lance?” Keith croaks, sounding panicked for the first time in all the time Lance has known him, but he isn’t rushing to pull out he’s just fucking sitting there with a dumb look on his face. “I don’t want to hurt you, you have to talk to me, what’s wrong? I don’t-”

Lance wants to hear him out, he doesn’t mean to interrupt his rambling, but as the pressure builds in his groin he’s immediately aware that the next spurt is actually going to be a  _ stream _ . 

“Oh no.” Lance blurts, dumbly, going impossibly still against the next wave of  _ need  _ that crawls its way through his abdomen. He can feel his stomach muscles cramping and jumping, urging him to just _ let go _ , to take a deep breath and _ let it happen _ . It’s the last thing he  _ wants _ to do, but he knows there isn’t any other option, not when he feels fit to burst at the slightest movement.

“Oh no?” Keith repeats, still just as confused and uncertain, but then he brings a hand down to rest against Lance’s stomach in what’s surely meant to be a comforting gesture… and it’s game over. 

Lance squeezes his eyes tightly shut and refuses to watch it happen.

The first few spurts are weak, but the stream only picks up from there until he’s pissing so hard that he’s certain the liquid must form an  _ arch _ before coming back down hitting the bare skin of his stomach. It’s warm, so warm it almost feels hot enough to burn, especially as it pools and trails along every divet in his body with searing certainty. He can feel the way it sinks into the sheets beneath him, causing the thin fabric to stick to his back and the curve of his ass. He wants to  _ cry _ .

Actually, in hindsight, maybe he’d already been crying without even realizing because he can feel the burn of it behind his eyes, even stronger than the burn of his sinuses as he inhales deep around a sob and smells the acridic scent of his own release.

He keeps waiting for it to end but it seems to drag on forever and Keith doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t even seem to breathe, still as ever with his hand still pressed to Lance’s stomach where piss is pooling around it. It’s disgusting. He has every reason to recoil with a shout, to shame Lance, to rush off to the shower and leave him there bound in his shame. Only he doesn’t. He stays as still as a statue exactly where he is, cock still half-buried inside of Lance’s ass, impressively still hard despite it all.

The worst part of it at all is how horrible it  _ doesn’t  _ feel. While Lance is laid out with guilt and anxiety and disgust warring in his mind… his body is on cloud fucking nine. It’s euphoric, finally allowing himself to relax after spending so long with tension pinning him in place. The relief is tangible, it’s pleasure like he’s never known it, even after everything he’s been through tonight this is the thing that truly undoes him. 

He feels lost to it, pulling against his binds, hiccuping his way through guttural groans and sobs.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise all things considered, but it still catches him off-guard when his stream starts to taper off into weak juts and then dribbles that run down the length of his cock. Despite waiting for it from the moment it started, he no longer feels ready for it to end. He’s not ready to face whatever will happen in the aftermath, the confrontation that’s waiting on him now.

For a long moment even afterward, he keeps his eyes closed and breaths shallow, not daring to move a muscle in case that’ll inspire Keith’s delayed reaction to what just transpired. It’s not the most realistic response, but Lance is beyond critical thinking at this point. He’s lying there in a puddle of his own coolin piss, feeling the growing stickiness as it dries against his skin.

He feels impossibly small and embarrassed, sensitive all-over in a way that has his hairs standing on end, and altogether not ready to watch his relationship crumble apart before his very eyes over something as stupid as not being able to hold his bladder.

When Keith speaks, even though his voice is careful and quiet in a way it’s never been, Lance  _ jumps _ .

“You could have told me.” Keith whispers, slowly drawing his hand away from Lance’s stomach, and though he still hasn’t mustered the courage to open his eyes… he thinks he feels the blankets shift as Keith wipes his palm off against them. Lance curls in on himself further. “I would have untied you.”

Somehow, this coddling approach Keith is taking, is worse than the harsh blow-out he’d been expecting.

It feels falsely placating, like Keith is pretending to not be disgusted by him, trying to soften the inevitable blow that’s coming one way or another. There’s no way that Keith is just okay with this, with any of it, no sane person would be. Sooner or later, no matter how Keith tries to comfort him now, Keith is gonna dip out of his life without even glancing back to second-guess it.

Keith pulls out wordlessly somewhere in the seconds that follow and Lance hates the feeling of emptiness after how long he’s been filled to the brim.

Lance pries open one eye, blinking through the tears still clinging to his lashes, and reluctantly drags his gaze up to Keith’s face. The expression he’s wearing is infuriatingly unreadable. Blank, but open, every single giveaway that might tell Lance how he feels about it all schooled into careful indifference. 

“Are you mad?” Lance asks outright, deciding that it’s better to get it over with now than later, before he has a chance to get his hopes up. Only, Keith just sighs long and hard, like Lance had wounded him with the question. He looks frustrated, but it’s not directed at Lance.  _ He’s beating himself up about it. _

“No.” Keith huffs. “I’m not, Lance. It’s fine, it’s my own fault for pushing you into something before you were fully comfortable with me, clearly. If we weren’t at the point you felt comfortable telling me you had to piss, we weren’t at the point where I should’ve been restraining or gagging you.”

“It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.” Lance argues, shifting to try and lean against the headboard, or maybe just avoid the drying damp spot in the middle of the mattress. “I asked for all of it. I  _ wanted _ it.”

“It’s still my fault, I should have been more attentive, I should have noticed you weren’t-” 

“Keith, there’s something you should know.” Lance interrupts him without remorse this time, already sick of listening to him talk himself down, like this is somehow his fault for not being a good enough dom or whatever he considers himself. It’s not his responsibility to read Lance’s mind, there’s no way he could have known Lance was uncomfortable with any of it, especially when Lance was trying so damn hard not to let him see. ““I might have… misled you… about how experienced I was.”

“What?”

“Sexually, I mean.” Lance elaborates, despite probably not needing to. Keith is giving him his full undivided attention now, his self-pitying thoughts on the backburner, and though that’s what Lance had been after it still overwhelms him. He swallows hard. “I led you to believe I’d done all of this shit before and I haven’t done any of it. I just wanted to impress you. From the moment I met you, that’s all I wanted. You were so intimidating, hot and cool, the bad boy that I’ve always wanted to be. But then I got to know you and I realized you’re also funny, and kind, so fucking kind… I’m sorry, Keith. I took advantage of that kindness and-”

“Elaborate.” Keith cuts him off before he has a chance to, ironically. “I need details, Lance. What did you mislead me about? How experienced are you? Have you ever been handcuffed before?”

“I’ve never been _ anything _ before.” Lance admits, collapsing back against the mattress with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling overhead and picking apart the peeling paint in his mind’s eye. He hates this. It’s almost more embarrassing than what he just went through, having to sit here and come clean about all the things he’s been lying about for no good reason. Keith’s gonna hate him after this and he has every reason to, it wouldn’t even be uncalled for. “I was a virgin before this.”

“Oh.” It’s Keith’s turn to sound small now, like a thing made hollow, a shell of his usual self.

“Are you mad now?” Lance asks, even though he dreads the answer. “I  _ lied  _ to you.”

Keith doesn’t respond as quickly this time, but he doesn’t seem to be considering his answer. He doesn’t even react outwardly to the question, still too caught up in his thoughts from Lance’s confession, the gears of his mind visibly turning behind the scenes. He’s plainly struggling to come to terms with it.

“Keith? Are you mad?”

“I’m not fucking mad, Lance.” He snaps suddenly, with far more venom than either of them had been expecting. Lance yelps, flinching backward, flattening himself back against the pillows. Keith looks at him with mixed emotions fighting for a place in his expression, before wiping them all away and starting again with that blank unreadable state. “You’re still a virgin. I refuse to believe this was your first time.”

“Okay.” Lance agrees, mostly because he doesn’t dare oppose him right now. He wants to do everything he can to try and salvage this, arguing hardly seems like the right path when that’s the end goal. Keith nods his head for a long minute, clearly working through the fine details in his mind, before finally leaning over and unlatching Lance’s cuffs. His hands fall free and he immediately picks himself up, moving up the bed and pulling his knees together to cover himself. 

He tries not to rub at his wrists too plainly, not wanting to draw attention to his injuries, but Keith notices them right away anyway. He pulls Lance’s hands away from his lap, turning them over a few times to get a good look at the red chafing around his wrists, a scowl deepening across his features the longer he studies the reddened marks. 

Then, without a word, he turns away and gets to his feet. He snatches his clothes off the floor on the way, then marches straight into the bathroom, locking the door behind himself. Lance is left alone with his thoughts, sickened by the things bouncing around inside his head. Keith hates him now. His mind tells him as much, over and over again, and it emphasizes that it’s entirely his own damn fault. He did this. He messed it all up.

It takes him a while to come back to himself enough to peel himself off the dirty sheets and stumble onto unsteady legs, but by then he’s made up his mind about what he has to do. The walk of shame away from this room without a shower won’t be a pleasant one, but surely he’s not the first person to walk around a university campus reeking of piss with tear tracks on their face. He’ll find another place to stay, he’s not sure whether it’ll be a hotel room or if he’ll travel all the way to Allura’s apartment in the city over, but he’ll decide as he goes. All he knows right now is that Keith needs to be alone.

He’s mostly dressed and doing a pretty good job of keeping the fresh tears at bay when the bathroom door flings open. Keith is standing there in his underwear with an unbuttoned shirt hanging around his shoulders, wiping his hands off on a towel, eyebrows scrunched together in a critical glare.

“Where are you going?”

“Out?” Lance offers, shrugging his shoulders “I just assumed you didn’t want me here-”

“Stop fucking assuming shit and get over here.” Keith tells him then, leaving no room for argument when he disappears back into the bathroom just as quickly. Lance winces, casting one last longing glance the door, before ultimately pacing across the room to join him.

The bathroom isn’t torn apart in the wake of a fit of rage, it’s exactly the same as they’d left it, other than a package abandoned on the counter that Lance recognizes all too well as one of his expensive bath bombs. Sure enough, a glimpse at the tub confirms that there’s some sparkling pink-purple water shining inside. He looks to Keith for an explanation, but his expression is harder to read than ever, aside from the sour-looking pucker of his lips as he wades through his own thoughts.

“Is this for me?” Lance asks, uncertain even as he dips a toe into the water. It’s just the right temperature and he already feels all of his sore muscles begging to be submerged in it. Keith nods his head.

“Take as long as you need. You can shower off afterward too.” Keith tells him, like he needs permission to do either of those things, and yet… he’s glad to have it. He feels like he needs permission to even breathe in the same room as Keith after everything he just put the other boy through. “Be careful with your wrists, we’ll have to bandage them properly afterward.”

Lance isn’t exactly sure what to make of the use of the word “ _ we’ll _ ” just now, not when he’s determined not to get his hopes up. He’s even more uncertain how to feel about this entire situation, Keith attempting to coddle and pamper him in the plainest of ways, like it’s his responsibility to take care of Lance now that he knows he’s a virgin. It’s insulting, but it’s also everything Lance has ever wanted, so he doesn’t have it in him to really argue against it. Instead he just climbs into the tub without a word, watching as Keith slips out of the room to give him privacy.

\--

He’s not sure how long he spends in that tub, but it’s long enough that his mortification is a distant memory, or as distant as it can be when he’s still stewing in the remains of it. He takes Keith up on that suggestion of showering himself off afterward, scrubbing the bar of soap across his skin so hard it almost burns in places, rubbing him raw. The injuries on his wrists do burn, especially when the suds of the soap get into them, but he does his best to ignore it as he focuses on getting himself as clean as possible.

He dedicates an unreasonable amount of time to planning his next words to Keith, agonizing over exactly what he’ll say, if there’s even any string of words in the English or Spanish languages that might even begin to encompass how very remorseful he feels right now. He regrets every lie he told, every second he went without telling Keith the truth, but most of all he regrets that Keith is blaming himself for it even the tiniest bit. All of those decisions were Lance’s and Lance’s alone to deal with, but he’d managed to drag Keith into the mess along with him, and that’s the worst thing he did.

He needs Keith to understand that none of this is his fault. He did everything right, played along exactly how Lance wanted him to, and there was no way he could have predicted any of this when Lance was making such an effort to cover his own tracks. Keith is good. The best kind of guy. The type of man Lance would have been honored to _ actually _ lose his virginity to, rather than whatever half-assed excuse that turned out to be. 

Seriously, who else would be decent enough to hold their tongue after an experience as disgusting as that, and even take the time to draw a bath and worry about the comfort of their partner? Keith didn’t have to do any of this, he did it out of the kindness of his heart, and Lance owes him one hell of an apology. He’d better make it a good one, Keith deserves that much.

It’s only once he’s entirely confident in the apology speech he’s prepared that Lance shuffles out of the shower, even though the water’s long since run cold by that point. He’s surprised to find a neatly-folded pile of clean clothes on the toilet seat in place of his damp ones from before, but he takes them gladly.

Fully-dressed and clinging to whatever confidence he can find buried within the recesses of his mind, Lance throws open to the bathroom and struts into their room like a man on a mission.

A mission that’s very quickly forgotten when he registers how dark it is, how the only light comes in the form of flickering flames littered around every flat surface, the strong scent of scented candles covering up any of the less desirable scents that might be floating around the room. And, when he steps into the room further, Lance feels the soft press of petals beneath his feet.

He’s still fighting tooth and nail to push his hopes back down, to convince himself that he’s only misunderstanding all of this, but what other reason would there be for rose petals to be littered across their floor? Surely Keith didn’t go through that trouble just for an aesthetically pleasing backdrop for their argument, right?

Lance stumbles awkwardly out of the room, registering Keith’s bed where the sheets are all absent and the mattress is tilted onto its side to dry, and barely has time to start to comfort himself through the disappointment of Keith not being present before he hears the quiet clearing of a throat from the other side of the room. In Lance’s bed.

Keith looks remarkably awkward where he’s settled cross-legged on Lance’s bed, fully dressed, hands folded neatly in his lap like he’s visiting his prim and proper grandmother rather than waiting on Lance to come out of the bathroom. Lance gives an incredulous little laugh before approaching him, each step feeling lighter than the last, his hopes beginning to skyrocket despite himself.

“What’s all of this?” Lance asks, wordlessly noting the lube bottle that’s now sitting on his bedside table, certain that that’s not where he last saw it. He doesn’t want to hope, he really doesn’t, but Keith is smiling at him in that toothy familiar way and-

“The first time you deserve.” Keith answers, wincing like he’s disgusted by the level of cheesiness, even if it’s of his own making. He groans, reaching up to bury his face into his hand. “Look, I don’t want to leave this whole encounter like we did. It’s not fair to you, it’s not what I want, I’d much rather try to fix it.”

“Oh.” Lance whispers, not even daring to breathe in case the illusion shatters around him.

“If you want it!” Keith interjects then, with urgency behind the words, and Lance feels like his heart’s set to beat clear out of his chest as he watches Keith struggle with his words for the first time ever. It always seemed like everything came to him effortlessly, but it’s clear now that Lance was only seeing what he wanted to see. Keith is only human, just like him, and they’re both bound to fuck things up, especially when they’re pretending to be perfect. 

“If I want it?” Lance repeats, with a hint of amusement. He’s not trying to be difficult, but the mere notion that he would turn any of this down is so laughable it almost hurts to see Keith second-guessing himself like this. It’s everything Lance ever dreamed of and so much more. 

“ _ Only _ say yes if you’re certain you want it. Be honest about that. Don’t agree because you feel pressured or else I swear to god, Lance, I’ll beat your ass in the non-sexy way. I never want you to feel like you can’t say no when something goes outside of your comfort zone, whether you’re with me or anyone else. You can always change your mind, at any point, and it is your partner’s responsibility to respect that. I failed at that, you tried to tell me in so many ways and I wasn’t listening, so I’m s-”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Lance blurts, without really thinking, and Keith looks at him like he’s grown a second head. Lance falls onto the bed beside him, shaking his head fondly. “Keith, I’m the one who should be sorry. I put you through all of that all because I was scared to be myself, I thought you wouldn’t like me that way. It was stupid and I hurt you, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“We can both be sorry.” Keith decides, reaching over to grip his thigh, squeezing it. 

“You’re serious about this? You still want me? Even after… everything that happened?”

“I’ve wanted you for so long, I don’t think anything could change my mind now.”

“What?” Lance chuckles, shaking his head slightly, trying to wrap his head around it. “No, that’s not right. You barely tolerated me. You avoided me like the plague, you were never home, you didn’t want anything to do with me. I flirted with you so much and you barely even reacted, you didn’t care about me at all. I mean, toward the end we were sort-of becoming friends, but obviously that’s over after what I just did so-”

“Lance, I was never home  _ because _ of my feelings for you.” Keith interrupts, his tone firm, and Lance forgets whatever he’d been about to say to argue against him. Instead, he just stares, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, as Keith continues to fumble through what sounds an awful lot like a confession. “I just… didn’t want to sleep with you then watch you keep bringing home other people like it meant nothing at all to you. It was easier to ignore the flirting and advances than give in and risk that. It just got worse when we became friends though and you got so much more insistent, I thought… what the hell? It’ll be worth the heartbreak just to know what it’s like to be with him.”

“And you still feel that way? Even after I…?”

“The last thing I want is to intimidate you all over again going into this, but Lance… that wasn’t the first time I’ve been pissed on, and every other time I’ve asked for it of my own free will.” 

Huh.

Admittedly, this might be the one possible outcome that Lance hadn’t considered during his hour long debate with himself in the shower, where he meticulously planned for anything to happen. He hadn’t even entertained the possibility that Keith might be into it, even the slightest bit, but maybe that makes a lot more sense as to why he didn’t recoil in disgust or even grow soft inside of him while it was happening. Keith probably liked watching him squirm in embarrassment the whole time, too.

“You’re _ into  _ it?”

“I could have been, if you weren’t so obviously  _ not _ into it.” Keith answers easily, like he’s not even the slightest bit shy about it, and Lance can’t help but giggle at him. Keith doesn’t seem offended though, not if the blinding smile he gets in return is anything to go by. “There’s not much I’m _ not _ into, even less that I wouldn’t be willing to  _ get into _ if  _ you _ were the one asking for it. I’m a little bit obsessed with you, I’m surprised you never noticed. Maybe not climb into your bed uninvited and jack off obsessed… but pretty close.”

“I think I was just a little too caught up in worrying about my feelings for you.” Lance admits, running a hand through his damp hair and plastering it back against his head. Keith watches him aptly, an easy smile still stretched across his lips, and Lance is hit with the urgent desire to kiss it off of him. 

So he does, throwing caution to the wind for once in his life.

The passion is there exactly as he remembered it, but there’s something else there now. It isn’t rough and needy, the both of them biting at each other’s lips as desire burns hot between them, a flame burning up the wick of a stick of a dynamite. It’s slow and comforting, the warm lapping flames in the hearth of a fireplace, and Lance is more than happy to burn in it’s warmth as he kisses Keith hard.

“So, you wanna do this?” Keith asks, pulling away and kissing down the length of his jaw, dipping his head forward to nip at the curve of his neck. Lance moans softly, tilting his head to the side so he has more room to work with, relishing the new freedom to reach up and thread his fingers through that silky hair that’s taunted him for so long. He even goes so far as to give it a playful tug, and Keith responds in kind by sucking a hickey into Lance’s collarbone.

“I have never wanted anything or anyone more.” 

“You ready to lose your virginity  _ for real _ ? Not just the tip?” Keith jokes, leaning back to smile up at him, making Lance’s heart do all sorts of funny things in his chest. It’s only made worse when Keith wiggles his eyebrows to emphasize the question, all innuendo and no finesse whatsoever, as dorky as he’d always seemed when it was just the two of them hanging out together. Lance can’t help but wonder if any of Keith’s hook-ups have ever gotten to see this laidback, playful side of him in the bedroom. 

“I would _ love _ for you to be my first.” Lance responds, maybe a little bit more genuine than the moment calls for, but Keith appreciates it nonetheless. The sappy bastard.

“Okay.” Keith reaches up to pull his shirt over his head and Lance rejoices, hands immediately darting out to cup his pecs, grinning devilishly the entire while. Keith looks on with fond exasperation written all over his face, before eventually grabbing Lance’s arm and pulling it aside. “Pick a safeword.”

“Keith, if we’re just having boring plain missionary I doubt we’ll-” The glare he earns himself with that particular line is so harsh that he immediately backtracks, stuttering in his rush to. “I don’t know,  _ red _ ?”

“Red it is.” Keith agrees easily, back to smiles and sunshine just like that, reaching for Lance’s shirt and then gently pulling it off of him. “Are you sore at all? I don’t think I was too rough earlier, but if you are we can do this another-”

“I’m _ fine _ .” Lance stresses this with a pinch to Keith’s hip, ducking out of the way before the latter can land a lighthearted slap in retaliation. “Trust me, by the time you put your cock in me I was nice and loose, lubed up like a fucking slip’n’slide. I barely even felt it, don’t flatter yourself. The vibrator was way bigger and it vibrated, you’re not that impressive.”

“Keep that up and I  _ will  _ spank you, virgin or not.” Keith growls out, pouncing on him and pressing him back down to the mattress, ignoring Lance’s bright laughter that echoes off the walls the whole while.

After that, it’s a competition to see who can tug their pants off quicker, before they meet back up in the middle of the bed with another clumsy kiss. This time, Keith is on his back beneath Lance, the other boy settling in his lap with a cockiness that’s entirely unwarranted but only stoked by the awed way Keith blinks up at him from the pillows. 

“Maybe I’ll ride you.” Lance muses aloud, rocking his hips back and forth, feeling the outline of Keith’s erection through the thin boxers separating their bare skin and purposely rutting his cock against it.

“Not exactly a beginner position.” Keith argues, though his tone is light, like he’d easily give if Lance was determined enough. He’s not though, not when his muscles are already so tired, his arms and thighs protesting the mere thought of trying to hold his weight up. Instead, he collapses beside Keith and kicks his underwear down his legs, spreading his legs comically wide.

“Seems like a lot of work. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Keith chuckles, moving down the bed to lay between his legs. “Or maybe you’ll realize that you never have to do any work if you play your cards right, like a spoiled little brat.”

Lance means to object to that, really, but he forgets whatever words he might have planned on using when Keith’s lips wrap around the head of his cock. He hardly feels indignant at all with Keith moving up and down the length of his cock, lips wrapped tight around the swollen flesh, tongue tracing along every vein that runs along it. And oh, when he pays special attention to the head, kissing and sucking at the tip while watching Lance’s reactions through those heavily-hooded eyes…

It would take almost nothing at all to make Lance come again, just like that.

Unfortunately, that’s not the game they’re playing, but they’re certainly revisiting it in the near future.

In reality, Keith’s talented mouth is only a distraction from the way his fingers press into Lance’s body moments later, already lubed an excessive amount considering Lance still feels raw and open from before. He’s not sure that they even need to bother with stretching at all, but Keith is insistent, and he’s damn dedicated to it too. This time he doesn’t stop the moment Lance could probably fit a cock up his ass, he keeps  _ going _ , until he’s got four fingers pressed inside of Lance past the final knuckle and is curling them up against his prostate with practiced ease.

It’s made even better by the way Keith keeps toying with his cock, running his tongue all over it, lapping and sucking at the tip with hollowed-out flushed cheeks. Lance doesn’t feel a shred of doubt that Keith enjoys this, he looks like he’s on another plane entirely, caught up in the feeling of a heavy cock resting on his tongue. A couple times, Keith even ducks down to take Lance to the back of his throat, but he’s quick to pull off before Lance can actually enjoy it… mostly because Lance is pretty sure he’d bust a nut in three seconds flat if he was allowed to stay there, to feel Keith swallow around him. Fuck.

When Keith finally, finally pulls away to ask him the question, Lance has been ready for over ten agonizing minutes, maybe even longer than that. He’s the kind of ready that has him rocking back against Lance’s hand, fucking himself on those long fingers of his. They aren’t doing much of anything for him though, not when Keith is purposely avoiding his prostate and just focusing on stretching him as wide as possible, so Lance is determined to get something else inside of him instead.

“How do you feel?”

“Good.” Lance answers, eager, and Keith just goes right on thrusting his fingers into him. All the way out, then slowly back in, sometimes bothering to crook them a little bit but never applying any direct pressure to where he needs it. Lance groans. “Keith, I’m not gonna break, I want it. What do I have to do to convince you _ , actually _ beg for it?”

“Mm, I still wanna hear that, but we’ll revisit it another time.” Keith muses, but then he’s finally shuffling back onto his knees, pulling Lance’s ankles to rest at his hips. Lance takes the hint, shuffling down the bed and wrapping his legs around Keith, pulling him in to the apex of his body. Keith goes happily, leaning over him and burying his face into Lance’s neck, groaning softly when their cocks rub together.

This time, Lance grabs for the condom before Keith even gets his mind about him enough to try. He reaches down between them and applies it himself too, rolling it over Keith’s length with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Keith seems more amused than affected by Lance’s soft touches, but someday he’ll wipe that smirk off his face, once he’s a little bit more experienced and comfortable with what he’s doing. Note to self: touching someone else’s dick is vastly different than touching your own, who knew?

Keith lines himself up then, rocking forward on his knees to press the head inside of Lance’s body and meeting no resistance at all. In fact, Lance has to bite down on his knuckles to keep from bucking back into it and trying to force him deeper. He’s determined to be patient though, even when Keith stops like that, with only the head of his cock held just past Lance’s twitching entrance.

“Still good?” Keith asks, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

“Seriously? I’ll use the safeword if I change my mind.” Lance grumbles, using his legs to draw Keith closer, groaning in satisfaction when it works and that thick cock slips inside another inch. “Put it in me already. You have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? You’ve done everything right, you’ve made it a magical experience, now _ fuck me _ or I’ll  _ have to  _ push you down on climb on top.”

“Bossy.” Keith mutters under his breath, somehow managing to make it sound like an endearment more than an insult. He listens though, working his hips closer to Lance’s, burying his cock into the warmth of Lance’s virgin body with careful steadiness. It really is admirable, from the pinch between Keith’s brows to the heavy labored breathing, he still manages to keep the pace of his hips slow and steady as he works his cock into Lance with care. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

When Keith first says it, Lance almost snorts with laughter at the thought. He’s been waiting for this for so long, why would he possibly ask for it to stop now? He wants to feel it, feel the full extent of what real sex is like, wants anything and everything Keith is willing to give him.

Granted, Lance quickly sees the error of his ways, once Keith is buried to the hilt inside of him and has the audacity to try and pull back out. Lance groans, long tan legs locking around Keith’s hips to keep him in place where he is. Lance blinks up at him, offering a sheepish shrug.

“Maybe… just take a break, for a second.” He suggests, relieved when Keith doesn’t even make a joke out of it, just immediately obeys and stills inside of him again. He doesn’t react even as Lance starts to squirm impatiently, trying to get comfortable to the feeling of having something pressed so deep inside of himself. He clenches down around it, even rocks his hips a little to try and change the angle, and at one point he reaches down between their bodies to feel where they’re joined with clumsy fingertips.

All the while, Keith stays dutifully frozen on top of him, though Lance can see how the struggle in his eyes toward the end of it, as Lance wraps his fingers around the inch or so of cock that’s not buried inside of him and strokes it. Keith glares at him at that point, accusatory in the plainest way, and still he doesn’t fuck him hard as punishment.

Lance sighs. 

“Fuck, you have a monster cock or something, it’s even  _ bigger  _ than it looks.”

“Nobody  _ says that  _ outside of porn.”

“I just said it.” Lance argues, stretching his arms over his head, making himself comfortable against the pilllows as he settles in for the fucking he’s been dreaming of. “I’m so sorry, you’ll have to teach me all the sex ettiquette you’ve spent your teen years dedicating your life to studying. What’s the appropriate way to refer to your monster cock? Not at all?”

“Shut-up.” 

“Make me.” Lance counters, a single well-groomed eyebrow climbing toward his hairline in a challenge.

In hindsight, it was sort-of a stupid call to action, considering almost anything Keith does with his cock buried to the root inside of Lance’s ass is going to do the opposite of making him shut-up. When Keith surges forward to kiss him quiet, his hips rock just that minute bit, and Lance’s entire body shudders in response to that cock battering its way deeper inside. The way he keens would almost be laughable, if he had the wits about him to realize how ridiculous he sounds.

The kiss breaks off quickly after that, Keith on high-alert for the vaguest sign of discomfort, and Lance isn’t sure how to explain to him that that  _ wasn’t _ a negative reaction in the slightest.

“Fuck.” Keith groans, his voice so much deeper all of the sudden, clearly impacted by the way Lance’s body has his dick in a chokehold. It’s the sexiest thing Lance has ever heard, the gruff way Keith speaks to him while biting back on his own instincts to rut into Lance’s body and chase his pleasure. “Sorry, I got carried away. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it felt _ good _ .” Lance interrupts, even shimmying back against his lap and taking him deeper again, this time on purpose. He whines, burying his face into the curve of Keith’s neck and simply breathing, in and out, labored breaths hitting Keith’s flushed skin with each exhale. “Do it again. C’mon, give it to me.”

“You sure?”

“Oh my god, Keith, fuck me like you mean it.” Lance huffs. Keith doesn’t look convinced, so Lance decides to take it a step further, dropping his voice to a sultry drawl. “Break me in, I know you want to. Show me the ropes. Teach this virgin how to be a good little cockslut like you  _ need _ .”

“You’re definitely speaking in porno now.” Keith grumbles, reaching up to clamp a hand over his mouth. That only works to stoke the fire though, reminding Lance of the way he’d whined and shouted behind the gag earlier, no one else in the dormitories any wiser to what he was doing. Lance moans, tongue darting out to lick at Keith’s palm, and apparently that’s the limit of Keith’s control.

It was nice while it lasted, but what  _ follows _ is significantly nicer.

Keith takes his hand away from Lance’s mouth, but only so he can brace himself over Lance with both arms, leaning into his space and kissing him hard in the same moment he rocks his hips forward hard.

There’s enough force behind the thrust, despite the slow speed, that it sends Lance sliding against the sheets and deeper into the pillows cushioning his head. There’s no longer any pain to accompany it, only a dull satisfying ache and a deep-rooted pulsing pleasure as Keith’s cock presses up against his prostate just right on the way back in. Keith doesn’t even have to ask before Lance is nodding, eagerly, trying to be as transparent as he can be about how very much he is comfortable with more of this.

Keith takes the hint and starts a steady pace of those deep, controlled thrusts. He fucks into Lance like it’s his job, dutiful and determined, pulling out to the very tip before pushing back into his heat with one of those punched-out groans that Lance would give anything to be the soundtrack to his every future jerk-off session. God. Keith sounds wrecked already and though Lance is doing little other than lying there and taking it, he can’t help but feel a surge of pride.

He _ likes _ knowing that he’s making Keith feel good.

That’s what inspires him to start bucking back against Keith with each and every thrust, their bodies meeting with the slick slap of skin against skin, so loud in the room that Lance is sure their neighbors must be able to hear their fucking. Keith must realize it too, but he doesn’t try to quiet Lance, instead smirks to himself with each and every moan and shout that tears its way up Lance’s throat and out into the open. He’s radiating smugness and he’s entirely deserved, for once.

He speeds up as if on cue, the moment Lance is certain he can’t take another second of that slow deep fucking that he feels from the tips of his toes through. He shifts closer and starts to fuck Lance in shallow, short thrusts with none of the calculated finesse behind them, but a hell of a lot more  _ speed _ .

It’s animalistic in a sense, the way Keith fucks him with a single minded determination, barely giving him the chance to catch his breath when each and every thrust of that thick cock inside of him steals it away again. Lance untangles his fingers from the sheets to bring them up to Keith’s back instead, digging his blunt nails into his shoulder blades and trying to ground himself against the relentless pleasure carving him open. He feels like he’s  _ drowning  _ in it.

“You close?” Keith asks then, breathing labored, voice husky with arousal. Lance wants to kiss him, but he’s not sure he can from this angle, especially when each thrust jostles him and sends him sliding against the sheets. Instead he just nods, eager, wrapping his legs tighter around Keith’s waist.

“Very.” Lance chokes out, his cock straining where it’s trapped between their stomachs, relishing any friction it manages to get purely by accident. Keith seeks it out on purpose now, wrapping his fist around it and starting to jerk Lance’s cock in his tight grip. “Oh! Fuck, fuck, f-”

“That’s it, gorgeous, let go.” Keith coaxes him, his hand stroking over Lance’s cock in a blur, just the right amount of tight at the base and loose at the head. Once or twice he even stops to spit into his palm and bring it back down, rubbing his cockhead through the mess of saliva before going back to stroking him with purpose, bringing him off with a stupidly impressive amount of familiarity. “Come on, baby, come for me. I know you can do it. You’re so close. Such a good boy, you’ll be coming from my cock alone in no time at all, won’t you?”

It’s unfair. Lance isn’t sure how he’s meant to last at all when Keith is whispering in his ear like that, all deep and dark, praise mixed with dirty talk in a deadly combo. Lance’s leftover virgin brain takes over then and there and he comes so hard he sees stars. He feels the strong shot of cum that lands between their bodies, and if he had more of his mind about him he’d reach down to rub it over those impressive pecs Keith’s sporting, but instead it’s all he can do not to buck Keith off as he dissolves into writhing, blinding pleasure beneath him. It’s good. Maybe the best it’s ever been, though he’s thought that so many times tonight he’s not sure what’s true and what isn’t anymore.

Keith follows him over the edge quickly afterward, which is a blessing considering Lance doesn’t get the chance to really worry if he came too fast, or to get uncomfortable in his post-orgasm state with Keith still plowing him like a fuckin semi-truck. God, Lance is sure his poor bony ass is gonna have bruises on either cheek in the shape of Keith’s pointy hipbones… as if it won’t hurt to sit down enough once this is all said and done. Fuck.

It’s maybe worth it though, when he leans back and watches Keith fall apart over him. He looks just as much like a model as he did the day they met, though admittedly a more x-rated one nowadays, with his face screwed up in pleasure. Jaw slack with that pink little bottom lip trembling, eyebrows pressed tightly together, hair falling across his eyes and the height of that blush he’s sporting. God, Lance really won the lottery with this one, didn’t he? He’s the full package… with a  _ full  _ package.

A full package that quickly starts to feel uncomfortable once Keith stills inside of him and leaves the ache some time to settle in. It’s still not painful, Lance doesn’t think that’d be possible after all the lengths Keith went through to stretch him properly. He doesn’t even get the chance to voice his discomfort though, before Keith is pulling back to look at him. That dopey grin is back in full-force, in his post-orgasm haze.

“You okay? Not too much?”

“No, it was good. Can you-”

“Yeah. Of course.”

And with that awkward exchange, Keith pulls out and ties the condom off, tossing it aside and then flopping down onto the mattress next to him with a long bellowing yawn. Lance squirms around a bit in an effort to get comfortable, before inevitably eyeing the soft plush pillow just waiting right beside him. 

He all but collapses onto Keith’s chest and aside from the quiet “oof” Keith let’s out upon impact… he doesn’t protest in the slightest. He just chuckles and lets it happen, sighing contently beneath him.

The only part of the entire experience that Lance couldn’t have predicted is how nice it feels to bask in the afterglow, tucked in close to your partner’s side, feeling the way their breathing slowly evens out in time with yours. Like this, with his head pillowed by Keith’s chest, he can hear the way the other man’s heart is racing away beneath him. It’s strangely touching, knowing that it’s beating like that just for him, that he was the one to work Keith up to this state.

He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, and slings one of his legs over Keith’s to curl into his side fully.

There’s no use being shy at this point, if it weren’t for the condom he’d have Keith’s load literally dripping out of his ass, he’s pretty sure he’s earned some cuddling. Not that Keith seems to object anyway, his arm settling heavy around Lance’s shoulders and holding him exactly where he is. 

“So.” Keith starts, waiting for Lance to show some sign of acknowledgement. He’s pretty spent right now, so all he really manages is a stroke of his hand over Keith’s stomach, but that seems acceptable given Keith continues immediately after. “Welcome to post-virgin life. Consider your cherry popped, your garden deflowered-”

“If you don’t stop with the cringy metaphors I’ll start speaking porno again.”

“Alright, but tell me one thing.” Keith muses, hand dropping to Lance’s hair seemingly by accident, though Keith quickly makes good of it and starts to wind his fingers through Lance’s short brown locks, curling them around his fingertips. “How does it  _ feel _ to be among the fucking?”

“Oh, wonderful, I’ve seen the light.” Lance snorts, burying his face back into Keith’s chest, smushing his cheek up against one of those massive pecs and trying not to wear a smirk like the cat who got the canary. He’s not sure he succeeds. “Hey, before I pass out, I should say thank-you.”

“For?” 

“I don’t know. Being so cool about everything. All of this.” Lance bites his lip, uncertain how to continue and fully express the depth of his gratitude. He lifts his head in the end, wanting to look into Keith’s eyes as he says this next bit. “I’m… really glad it happened with you and not a stranger. I mean it. Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me, it was hardly a hardship.” Keith argues gently, though Lance is sure there’s a sparkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there, that the words touched him more than he cares to admit they did. “It felt good for me too, for the record. Really good.” 

“Yeah? Best you’ve ever had?”

“Hey, slow your row, you’re barely making it out of the gate. We have a long way to go before we break you into perfect cockslut material.” Keith jokes, immediately regretting it when Lance retaliates by twisting one of his nipples. Keith yelps, swatting at him, laughing all the while. “Okay, okay, you’re in the top ten at least!” 

“I’d damn well better be!”

“Let’s just say, if you’re ever looking for someone to take any of your other firsts, you know who to call.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been in the market for my very first boyfriend.” Lance muses, trying to play it off as something lighthearted, even as he holds his heart between his teeth in anticipation for Keith’s response. He doesn’t want to assume, maybe this is strictly physical from Keith’s side of things, but so much of this had felt like something more than that-

He’s not even speaking, but Keith must be able to hear the loudness of his thoughts, because he shuts him up with a kiss all the same. The passion is still there even now, tired and lazy as it is, Keith’s lips working against his in a way that feels more comforting than it does competitive. He nips at Lance’s bottom lip as he pulls away though, grinning devilishly back at him.

“I’d be honored.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This one in particular was fun, I've ALWAYS wanted to write a story with an inexperienced Lance who talks an outrageous big game, I just feel like it's so in-character for him. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this, as always, leave me a comment down below! I look forward to seeing your thoughts on it! Hopefully I didn't make anyone uncomfortable, but I tagged and warned as accordingly as I possibly could, so it eez what it eez. If you're interested in seeing more of me, you can find me at my social medias below:
> 
> social media:  
> @melancholymango on twit/tumblr  
> @redgaysonly is my nsfw fandom twit, 18+ only


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